


Cursed

by Anathema_Cat, Khafushun



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Dwarven Ones | Soulmates, Fairy Tale Curses, Fairy Tale Retellings, FiKi Week, M/M, Masturbation, Off-screen Relationship(s), Pre-Quest of Erebor, Sexual Content, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2018-11-29 22:36:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11450487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anathema_Cat/pseuds/Anathema_Cat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khafushun/pseuds/Khafushun
Summary: An ordinary hunting trip goes horribly wrong when Kíli is cursed with eternal sleep. The only way to break the spell? A kiss from his One. The problem? No one knows who that is.Luckily, disaster is averted when Fíli, who has been harboring secret feelings for his brother, volunteers to kiss Kíli, and Kíli immediately wakes. Problem solved, right?Not quite. Because Kíli is pretty sure he doesn't have a One, and he's not about to fall head over heels in love with someone just because everyone says he has to.It's about to become abundantly clear that real life isn't a fairy tale, and "happily ever afters" aren't a guarantee.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for FiKi Week Day 2: inspired by art. 
> 
> This is loosely based on some amazing fan art by Kaciart, which you can find right [here](http://kaciart.tumblr.com/post/52672196427). We ended up taking this in a completely different direction, though. Hope you enjoy!

 

 

Fíli stormed into his mother’s house, eyes wild and heart in his throat, covered in a sheen of sweat and soot from the forge. He’d dropped everything when a dwarf had been sent with a message from Dís, words that stopped his heart for a moment before it began beating too quickly.

His eyes froze on his brother’s prone body, laid out on a cot by the fireplace. Kíli was so still, his normally expressive face that of a statue. Fíli had to stop for a moment, consciously gulping air, convince himself that this was _not_ what it seemed, that someone would have told him if Kíli was gone. Surely they would have told him that.

He inhaled, willing himself to calm down and focus. He turned to Thorin, unable to keep anger off his face. “How,” he snarled, “did this happen? _”_

To his credit, their uncle looked almost as distressed as Fíli felt, his normally stoic face drawn with worry. “Hope is not lost, Fíli,” Thorin said, eyes flicking to Fíli’s before returning to Kíli. “He is only asleep.”

“But why?” Fíli snapped. He looked at the various dwarves assembled in the small common area – his mother, back straight despite the fear in her eyes, Balin and Dwalin, as familiar as family, their distant cousin Óin. _Answer me, please._ “What is going on?”

He’d just been with Kíli at breakfast that morning - his brilliant smile on full display, excited about the day’s hunting trip with Thorin. Fíli had rolled his eyes, more than once, and been unable to get a word in, but he loved Kíli’s enthusiasm and had even been looking forward to his tales of his adventure later that evening.

“It was just an ordinary hunting excursion,” he said helplessly to the too-quiet room. And Kíli and Thorin were both _good,_ amply experienced with a bow. Never in Fíli’s wildest dreams could he have imagined coming home to anything like this.

Fíli clenched his fists, felt his teeth grind. If Thorin didn’t explain soon- He took a breath and raised his eyebrows, silently demanding an explanation.

Thorin cleared his throat. His voice sounded ragged. “There was a stag. A large white stag. A bounty. Kíli had the best line of sight.” Thorin rubbed his hand down his face. “He aimed true, it struck the heart. We thought it struck the heart. Then there was no stag. There was a person, a figure in white. I can’t believe I’m saying this. Shimmering.”

“Shimmering,” Fíli repeated, voice flat.

“Yes. Shimmering, blurred. It was hard to see. It said we had no call to kill such rare beasts and that we would regret it.” He paused, looked at Dís, Dwalin. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

They both shook their head. They all knew of magic, but had no experience, no reference.

Thorin took a breath. “It said to Kíli, ‘You will be punished. I curse you with eternal sleep.’” Another pause. “I need to get this right. It said, ‘Only a kiss from your One True Love may wake you.’

“We spoke at once, to question, to protest. It didn’t matter. Kíli was as you see now and the figure gone in a matter of seconds."

Fíli shook his head, felt the rush of his pulse. He took a step closer to the cot, just looked at his brother, the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

“Only a kiss from Kíli’s One True Love can wake him,” Balin mused, his white brow furrowed. “I’ve never heard-” he trailed off, and then shrugged. “Do we know who that is?”

Dwalin snorted, arms folded across his broad chest. “Who over the age of forty believes in that nonsense?”

Dís believed in that nonsense. Her glare also said she did not care much for Dwalin’s cynicism. “Whether we believe it or not is irrelevant,” she snapped. “If the condition for breaking the curse is a kiss, then we must find the person he’s destined for.”

 _This cannot be happening,_ Fíli thought, with a flash of uncharacteristic panic.

Fíli’s eyes followed Thorin as he started pacing. “But who could that be?” Thorin growled.

All eyes in the room turned to Fíli, and then he almost did panic, his breath choking, throat tightening. It felt as if they all knew about his hidden feelings for his brother. He forced a deep breath and reminded himself they would look to him for an answer.  If there was anyone Kíli had feelings for, Fíli would know.

Fíli didn’t know. He had seen nothing to indicate that Kíli yearned for anyone – his brother was flirtatious and loved attention, yes – but One True Love? Swallowing, he shook his head.

“All right, what do we do?” Dís’s voice was strained, her face pale.

“Start a search,” Balin suggested. “Ask for those who would be willing to try.”

“We have no time for that,” Thorin growled, slamming a fist into his hand. “Our quest to retake Erebor is imminent-”

Thorin recognized his mistake a moment too late. All eyes swiveled to Dís. “You don’t think,” Dís hissed, eyes narrow, “that restoring your nephew should take precedence over a _quest?”_

Thorin held up placating hand. “Of course. Of course I do. But we could be looking for a needle in a haystack, Dís,” Thorin sighed, voice soft. “A needle that may not even exist.” Thorin exhaled and looked down, no need to say what even the staunchest believers in One True Love knew: not all Dwarves had Ones.

Fíli’s stomach heaved. He couldn’t fathom a life without his brother, his best friend.

Dís broke the silence, dark eyes shining. “We must do _something.”_ She took a harsh breath. “Start the search now. While we look for other options.”

Balin nodded. “I will see what I can learn from the scrolls. Thorin, what happened to that wizard of yours?”

Thorin’s face clouded. He shook his head. “Gone. I don’t expect to see him ‘ere the journey’s start.”

In a daze, only vaguely aware of the continued conversation, Fíli moved to the cot and knelt, hands clenched at his sides. He studied Kíli, dark and beautiful to his eyes despite his weirdly expressionless face. He needed Kíli’s smile, his warm eyes, his spontaneity.

Before he could question it, he moved up to sit on the cot and reached for his brother’s hand. Fíli looked at the hand in his. It was limp, too cool. He rubbed his thumb across a pale knuckle. _Oh, Kíli. Should I do it?_

Fíli’s thoughts swirled, and he couldn’t grasp on to any one, his breath shallow at the thought of exposing his secret. It was secret because Kíli showed no signs that he shared the feelings, so what purpose did kissing him serve? The idea of kissing Kíli while he slept turned his stomach. And if it didn’t work? Yet the thought of not trying when he was sitting right here next to him seemed like the height of cowardice.

And then there was the unfamiliar warm feeling in his chest. The one he had absolutely forbidden to blossom took quick advantage of his distress. Fíli didn’t believe in Ones, but what if this actually worked? If Kíli woke… that would have to _mean_ something, wouldn’t it? The birth of hope was like a shard in his heart.

Fíli realized the room had gone silent, and he imagined questioning eyes on his back. He brushed back a strand of Kíli’s hair with his free hand and stared at Kíli’s still mouth. His stomach knotted at the thought that his secret was about to be exposed, and his grip on Kíli’s hand tightened. He took a deep breath, tried to unclench his jaw, told himself to just get on with it. _For Kíli._

With a silent entreaty that his love would be enough to wake Kíli, even if that love wasn’t shared, Fíli lowered his head. All he wanted was his brother back.

Fíli closed his eyes and brushed Kíli’s lips. They were soft, unresponsive. Fíli pulled away almost immediately, braids swaying with the movement. The thud of his heart was painful as he watched for a flutter of eyelids, any sign that this ridiculous chance he took had worked. It seemed an eternity, the two of them like that: Kíli still as stone beneath him; Fíli wide-eyed, body heat rising, rising, chest heaving, spirits sinking.

_Please, Kíli. Come back to me._

Kíli opened his eyes. Fíli’s tension left in a rush of breath that left him weak. He anchored himself with Kíli’s hand and forced himself to stillness.

 

* * *

 

With a sharp inhale, Kíli woke to chaos. He blinked, trying to make sense of the commotion, surprised to find himself staring into Fíli’s blue eyes. His stomach gave a strange leap, and he attempted a smile. “Hi.”

Fíli closed his eyes, inhaled, opened them again, exhaled. His mouth stretched into a smile to match Kíli’s. “Hi.”

Kíli wrinkled his nose. “What’s going on?”

“Ah...” Fíli leaned back at last, suddenly looking sheepish. “Looks like you managed to stumble into some trouble on your hunt this morning. I can’t let you out of my sight for even a few hours, can I?”

Fíli laughed, but it sounded unconvincing. Kíli looked at the crowd around him - expressions varying from relief to surprise - and realized he was on a cot in their common room. It made no sense.

“Trouble?” Kíli sat up with a grunt, and Fíli scrambled backward to give him some space. “What trouble, I don’t-”

“You were put under a spell, laddie,” Balin cut in, taking a seat across from the pair and giving them a careful look. “An eternal slumber.”

Kíli felt his mouth drop open. “A _what?”_ He gave all present a skeptical look, mouth curling into a knowing smile. “You’re all messing with me, right? An eternal _slumber?”_ He turned to Fíli. “Then how am I awake? This has to be a joke… _Oh._ ”

Running a hand through his hair, he looked at Thorin. “The white stag? That was… real?”

Thorin nodded his head. “Nothing we tried would rouse you. Nothing until...” he trailed off, palms up.

“A kiss from my ‘One,’” Kíli breathed, the memory coming back to him. “That was the condition.”

Kíli frowned; he had never liked the idea of Ones much – it was a fun and romantic concept, and he had played at the idea being true with some of the lads and lasses in town, but only in jest. He believed in forging his own destiny, of his decisions having _meaning_. He and Fíli, both. And, sure, he had entertained the thought of meeting the love of his life in a strange and unexpected place, but it had only ever been a fantasy.

But this… changed things. What did it mean if he had been placed under a spell? Could “One True Love” actually be real? Kíli gulped, glancing around the room again. He only saw family present.

“Well, if I’m awake, then, uh...” His eyes narrowed. “Who kissed me?”

Kíli felt a hand squeeze his own. He turned back to see Fíli watching him intently, a strange smile on his lips that Kíli would describe as “shy” if it had been on any other face.

“Uh, we were a bit at a loss, you see,” his brother said, “and so I thought I might... give it a go.”

Kíli grew very still, his skin tingling like he had been dropped in an ice bath. He let out a sharp bark of laughter.

 _“What?”_ He looked around the room with an incredulous smile. “Come on, that can’t be right.”

“I was just as surprised as you!” Dwalin cut in with a loud guffaw, striding over to clap a hand to both of the brothers’ backs – but not before Kíli saw the color drain from Fíli’s face. “Congratulations, lads! Never believed in Ones all my life. _Still_ wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes!”

“Seen what?” Kíli was equal parts anxious and intrigued.

“You wake up, of course!” Dwalin gave Kíli’s shoulder a light punch, but it was clear for all to see that he was holding back; Kíli must have really given them a scare. “Believe me, lad, _nothing_ we tried got so much as a _nose twitch_ out of you. But as soon as Fíli kissed you…” Dwalin jerked straight up, eyes suddenly open wide, as if attempting to reenact the scene. And then he laughed again. “Well, that’s the surest proof I’ve ever seen that True Love exists!”

“I already suspected the two of you,” Dís said proudly, a pleased smile on her face. “Oh, I _love_ being right. Thorin, I should have taken that bet of yours.”

Thorin merely grunted, a thoughtful look on his face, while Óin held up his ear trumpet and grumbled, “What?”

For once, Kíli felt like he and Óin were on the same page. _A bet?! What on earth is going on?!_ Kíli’s head was spinning. He needed answers. He turned to Fíli. “This is a joke, right? Did you really kiss me?”

 _Oh, no._ Fíli’s face had lost all expression: eyes closed off and guarded, his jaw set. Never a good sign. Eventually, he gave a minute nod.

“But why?” Kíli whispered.

Kíli’s eyes widened at Fíli’s slow head shake, the uncharacteristic dazed look in his eyes. Then Fíli tore his hand from Kíli’s and stalked out of the room.

 

* * *

 

 _This can’t be happening,_ Fíli thought - again - as he stomped his way out of the mountain toward the massive wood piles that would fuel his uncle’s forge, battle axe clenched in his fist, a swirl of unwanted emotions constricting the rest of his body. He was dying to hit something.

Thump of boots mixing with thudding heart, thick air stealing his harsh breaths, and then he was out of the still tunnel, sunlight burning his eyes and wind stealing the sweat so that more could pour out. He failed to acknowledge the lookouts on either side of the open gate, a breach of royal courtesy that would’ve bothered Fíli on any other day.

Had it taken him hours or seconds to reach the wood shed? The halls had plenty of wood stored inside, but his anger had led him here. Fíli threw his axe on the rocky ground next to the chopping block, grimacing at the loud clang. This was almost sacrilege, and he didn’t care, he just needed to picture destroying someone.

He grunted as he lifted the largest log onto the block. He grabbed his axe, lifted it, slammed it down. It stuck. He ripped it out.

He certainly hadn’t expected Kíli to jump into his arms. (Lift, slam.) But he had expected _something._ (Tear out the axe.) _Understanding._ (Lift, hold, slam.) _A fucking shared smile._ (Tug. Stumble.) Fíli lifted his arms again, jumped forward, and destroyed the log.

Axe clanging on the ground, sweat in his eyes, he dropped the next biggest log on the block. He grabbed his axe. He couldn’t understand why the - he pressed his eyes close - kiss - had worked. _And what did I receive? For exposing. Exposing myself that way._ (Lift, slam.) _Derision._ (Yank out the axe. Lift, slam.) _Disbelief._ The axe slipped in his wet palms when he pulled it from the wood. He forced a deep breath and settled his grasp. He obliterated another log.

 _This is ridiculous._ He threw his battle axe down again, stomped to a tool shed, flung the door open, and ripped down a blunt splitting axe. He tossed that on the ground, and dropped in place the next largest log he could find. The axe split the wood in three satisfying chops without sticking. Repeat.

His mind finally shut off as his body settled into a rhythm that held off fatigue. (Drop axe, next log, tear off soaked shirt, heft axe. Slam. Again.) He heard nothing but his pulse and the repetitive crash of the axe splitting the logs and dropping on the ground, the logs thudding into place. He felt nothing but the flex of his muscles and the reverberation of the axe. The sun sank lower in the sky, scalding his back.

A hand landed on his bare shoulder, and Fíli had a knife across the intruder’s neck, axe on the leg before he realized he’d spun around. Fíli faced wide, dark eyes with his own hazy ones, gasping as he fought back the killing impulse. Fíli forced his focus onto the frozen face, felt his own pulse pounding in his neck, pushed his shaking muscles away and down.

“You reckless _fool,_ I could have killed you!” Fíli snarled, dropping the axe and sheathing his knife in disgust.

“You wouldn’t have killed me,” Kíli said.

Fíli’s heart hammered from his exertion, the surprise, from putting a knife to his brother’s neck. He tried to slow down his breath. “That was still a stupid thing to do,” Fíli muttered, retrieving the axes and propping them against the chopping block so he could avoid Kíli’s eyes.

“Really?” Kíli snorted. “Obviously I know that, but you’ve been here for ages. Amad and then Dwalin couldn’t get your attention.”

“I want to be alone,” Fíli ground out as he turned his back to retrieve tools from the shed.

"Fee."

The hurt and confusion in Kíli’s voice slowed Fíli’s steps and made it impossible to catch his breath. He scrubbed his hand down his face and kept moving. How could he face Kíli now - when he had- he had- Mahal, he couldn’t even think about it without feeling nauseated. He grabbed a clean cloth and oil and slammed the shed door as hard as he could.

Trying to ignore Kíli, not one of his strong points, he picked up the chopping axe and wiped down the blade with the cloth. _Please go away, Kee. Please do that much for me._

“Fíli,” Kíli murmured. “You never include me in that.”

Fíli dropped the cloth as the axe handle slipped in his hands. Grinding his teeth, he retrieved the tools and continued cleaning the blade. He was too hot, he could barely focus, he needed Kíli, he never wanted to see Kíli again.

“I am not interested in talking,” Fíli stated, rubbing vigorously at the blade.  

“Yeah?” Heat crept into Kíli’s voice as he raised it. “Well, I am!”

The flash of love for Kíli’s strong will settled to an ache at the pit of his stomach. “Maybe later. I can’t now.”

Fíli would not look at Kíli. He wouldn’t see the question in his eyes, the pain on his face. “Please just go,” he whispered.

“Why did you-"

“Go!” Fíli yelled, slamming the axe against the chopping block.

Silence. Bird calls. Blood pounding in his ears. Fíli stared at the axe, found what might be a stain. Moments stretched as Fíli scrubbed a single spot on the side of the blade, certain his brother’s glare was burning his skin. Finally he heard Kíli spin and stomp away. Fíli sighed as his anger fled with Kíli, leaving him feeling heavy and spent. With exaggerated care, he set aside the first axe, slowly reached for the second. Pushing all thought aside, he focused on polishing, sharpening, cleaning.

His heart and breath finally slowed down, but the tightness in his chest hadn't lessened a bit.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Fíli’s rejection was unfamiliar, and it stung. Kíli couldn’t keep the hurt and confusion from his face – the glare he was sporting must have been impressive, as a gaggle of young dwarflings playing near the gate to the mountain froze and stared at him as he stalked past. On another day, yesterday, they might have called him over to tell him all about their late afternoon adventures.

Not today. Kíli was in no mood to entertain, his mind occupied with thoughts of Fíli. Kíli knew his brother, knew when he needed quiet, knew he had his moments when talking wasn’t easy or desirable. Kíli understood that. This was different.

Fíli had kissed him.

Kíli ran his hand over his mouth, as if doing so would help him remember the event. It didn’t. He tried to imagine it, but could not. It wasn’t that he couldn’t imagine his brother kissing someone; Fíli had done so before, and Kíli had seen it, even if Fíli tried to keep his flirtations discreet. What Kíli couldn’t imagine was Fíli kissing him. That he would want to.

And at that thought, Kíli felt his anger rise again, hot and painful. He didn’t understand. There were no secrets between them, he and Fíli. Or at least, he’d been naive enough to think so. But Fíli had kissed him. Fíli had thought he might break the spell. That he had succeeded was irrelevant; Fíli had thought he could, and if their roles had been reversed, the thought would have never occurred to Kíli.

He blinked. Kíli didn’t believe in “True Love.” Fíli didn’t, either. And yet some white stag, some curse, said it existed.

Rudely, he shoved his way through the dwarves milling about the merchant’s quarters as he made his way toward his favorite tavern. His current temperament was probably not the best suited for drink, and it was early in the day besides, but Kíli didn’t know where else to go. Fíli didn’t want him, and he couldn’t go home – Dís and the others would have questions for him, questions Kíli couldn’t answer. He could still hear Óin’s parting call (“Well, you’ve got to go after him now, laddie! He’s your One!”), and the memory of it rankled. So Fíli had kissed him, and he had woken up. So what. It didn’t have to mean anything.

Kíli’s frown deepened as he pushed the door open. He didn’t know why he didn’t want it to mean anything- no. No, it _didn’t_ mean anything. The kiss had changed nothing. Kíli felt the same now as he had that morning – aside from a bruised ego, of course, that his prize from the hunt had gotten away, and, moreover, turned the tables on him. But Fíli had wanted it to mean something - at least, Kíli _thought_ Fíli wanted it to mean something. It would help if Fíli would talk to him, but apparently that wasn’t happening.

Kíli’s heart pounded as he scanned the room, trying to push his brother out of his mind. Fíli could wait around and brood all he liked, but by the time he was ready to work things out _(if_ he was ever ready, Kíli grumbled), it would be too late. Kíli couldn’t stand leaving things up in the air like this; he wanted to know where they stood, what Fíli wanted from him, how long this had been going on… everything. Kíli wanted to know everything.

The tavern was empty. Well, relatively empty; there were a few older dwarves here and there, of a different class and age group. And then his eyes alighted on Ori, sitting at a table in the back in his usual mittens and scarf, despite the smoky atmosphere, scrawling away at something in a well-utilized notebook.

Kíli’s scowl nearly transformed into a grimace. _Ori. I wonder where his keeper is._ Kíli glanced around the room until – _ah_ –there was Dori, carrying two mugs of ale over to where his brother sat.

They were distant relatives of Kíli’s, ones Kíli didn’t know particularly well – though he would soon be getting to know them much better. And, although he didn’t dislike either brother, talking to Ori took a certain amount of patience that Kíli did not have, especially not then, and Dori… Dori was more than he seemed. Kíli was loath to get on his bad side. _Perhaps I ought to change my choice of venue,_ he thought, too late.

“Master Kíli!” Dori had spotted him and was now waving him over. Kíli swallowed his reluctance and approached, forcing a thin smile to his face.

“Mister Dori, hullo! What brings the two of you here so early in the day?”

“Same as you, I expect!” Dori winked. “Not many days left until we all head out, so I thought I might treat Ori to a drink after a long day spent cleaning and packing. Nori, too, if he ever stayed in one place long enough.”

Dori’s eyes deepened into a slight glare, before he blinked. “Oh, but where are my manners? Have a seat, Master Kíli, have a seat – and take my ale, I’ll be right back with a third!”

With a stiff nod of thanks, Kíli slid down into the chair opposite Ori and gave the smaller dwarf a hesitant smile. Though Ori was actually older than Kíli by several years, he seemed much younger, and Kíli still hadn’t figured out how to reconcile that. “What’s that you’re drawing there?” he asked, nodding toward his notebook.

“Oh, just various things around the mountain that I shan’t like to forget after we leave.” Ori took a gulp of ale and blinked at Kíli as he licked the foam from his sparse mustache. “How’s Fíli?”

“ _Fíli?”_ Kíli hadn’t thought that the syllables of his brother’s name could ever be uttered with such venom, but he had just gone and done it. He didn’t want to talk about Fíli. He wanted to forget all about him. “I wouldn’t know how _Fíli_ is. He keeps his thoughts to himself.”

Ori’s mouth hung open for a moment, apparently surprised by Kíli’s tone, but then he bravely (or perhaps unwisely) continued: “I just thought… after the business with the curse, and you reacting the way you did...”

It was Kíli’s turn to stare at Ori now, mouth agape. Short of being part of some underground spy network, he had no idea how Ori could have known what had happened – and so soon. But before he could respond, Dori returned.

“Well now, Master Kíli, we’re awfully surprised to see you out and about after all your excitement earlier!”

Kíli resisted the urge to smack his head against the table; did the entire mountain know already?

As if he could sense Kíli’s thoughts, Dori continued: “Now, don’t you fret, the story is safe with us! We only happened to hear it from a little bird...”

“Bird?” Kíli frowned.

“Well, spider,” Dori amended.

“Starfish,” Ori chimed in, inexplicably.

Needless to say, Kíli wasn’t in the mood for these weird head games. He stood, gave a polite nod, and began to make his excuses, but before he could leave, Dori stopped him. “Now, before you go, Master Kíli, a quick word of advice, if I may! I understand you may be… surprised... to discover your One so suddenly, and especially under such circumstances, but don’t let that deter you from making the most of this gift! What a blessing, to finally find-”

“Mister Dori,” Kíli interrupted, finally at the end of his patience, hands flat on the table as he glared at the older dwarf. “Do you have a One?”

“No.” Dori shook his head sadly, his shoulders slumped. “I’m afraid I haven’t been so fortunate yet.”

“Then how,” Kíli pressed, “can you be sure ‘Ones’ exist?”

Dori gasped, and his entire body jerked back. “What a horrible thing to say! Especially from someone who just found his One! Why, I’ve never heard such an outrageous thing in all my life!”

It shouldn’t have hurt to hear that, but it did. Kíli was used to being strange, to doing things that weren’t expected of a dwarf and being laughed at, but this seemed like a new low. He glowered at Dori and snapped, “Why do I have to be with someone just because everyone tells me I have to? Don’t I get a say in this? Fíli’s my brother, and I love him, but this is so… beyond anything I’ve ever considered! And I won’t do something just because everyone says I have to!”

He slammed his hands on the table and then pointed at Ori. “How would you feel if you woke up one morning, and everyone told you your ‘One’ was Nori?”

Ori blanched. “But Nori’s my brother!”

“ _Exactly!”_ Kíli pounded his hand against the table again. “And you’ve never thought of him that way before, but now suddenly everyone’s saying you have to be together.”

“But that’s disgusting!” Ori looked horrified. He turned to Dori with wide eyes. “Me and _Nori?_ I think I’m going to vomit.”

“Oh, stop being so melodramatic,” Dori tutted, giving his youngest brother a fond but impatient glance.

“But why would he even suggest such a thing?!”

Some of Kíli’s frustration seemed to die in the face of Ori’s vehement reaction, morphing instead to confusion. The suggestion that he and Fíli could be lovers wasn’t nearly so upsetting to Kíli – strange and unfamiliar, yes, but he certainly didn’t feel like he was about to be sick. “Was it really such a bad comparison?” he wondered aloud, frowning.

“Well of _course_ it was,” Dori said with a roll of his eyes. “Nori and Ori aren’t ‘Ones,’ not like you and Fíli!”

Kíli was pretty sure he heard Ori hiss, “and he’s my _brother,”_ before he snapped. “Oh, for the _last_ time!” Kíli pushed away from the table and straightened. “Fíli is _not_ my One. I would know it if he was! I would have known it long before he ever kissed me.

“And no,” he added quickly when it looked like Dori might interrupt, “I don’t know why I woke up when he did, but it changes _nothing._ ”

Kíli glanced around the room, a feverish glint in his eyes. _And I’m going to prove it!_

 

* * *

 

Fíli’s mind wrestled with itself - all he could think about was the only thing he didn’t want to think about. From his prone position on the hard cave floor, he lifted his head an inch and let it fall.

“Ouch,” he told the shallow cave in general, although the walls surely couldn’t hear him for the water rushing just past his head from a rock ledge somewhere high above to the clear green pool far below.

He reached a languid arm over his head and let his fingers trail through the water. Fat, freezing droplets joined the mist cooling his body, the shreds of his anger. Those shreds were threatening to coalesce, feed the embarrassment and disappointment. Worse, uncertainty. _Where do I go from here?_ was an unsettling whisper haunting him.

Worse, fear. Not normal. Not acceptable. He wanted Kíli.

The soothing grey light of the cave, the roar of the water, the certainty that no one would find him here, the swirl of unwelcome emotions - all conspired to encourage unusual pensiveness. This was where he came to wash it away on the rare occasions Kíli’s omnipresent inaccessibility became too much to bear.

Fíli’s desire had settled into a dull ache at the base of his skull, the pit of his stomach. He had learned to live with it, to sweat stabs of need out into the heat of the forge, to push frustration onto the practice field, to accept shoulder nudges and mock fights, epithets and late-night conversations as the only declaration of love they'd ever make.

Kíli’s smiles taunted him, yes, the brilliant flashes of joy in the dark beard, the easy laugh, along with his beautiful dark eyes and brow. He loved how Kíli moved, every time, sleek like a predator when hunting, quick and slippery as an eel when fighting, stumbling and falling into Fíli after too much ale, irreverent and ridiculous at official occasions behind Thorin’s back. Fíli even found Kíli’s awkward attempts at flirting amusing, how Kíli tried so hard to channel his hunting prowess into his conquests and just ended up looking like a fool. A brooding, handsome one, admittedly, so that a few dwarves had been willing to look right past the fool part.

Fíli sighed. His fists didn't even itch to pummel those dwarves anymore. It wasn't their fault Kíli didn't direct that attention as Fíli wished, and none had treated Kíli poorly or been around long. Fíli would admit to a shameful, perverse wish for one of them to in fact do something that deserved a beating, but so far he'd just had to make do with imagining their bodies on training dummies.

This thing he had for Kíli, the feelings that went beyond their strong sibling bond, it had been handled. But now...

Fíli scooted himself back toward the waterfall until his head was just in the path of the water. Just enough pressure on his scalp, dragging his hair, to demand his focus. He had it just right - he’d almost lost his head trying to figure it out during his initial visits.

Now he had touched Kíli’s lips. He had reawakened desire at the same time he had damaged their bond. He cringed. He let out a frustrated shout. Sticking his head all the way into the torrent seemed like a really good idea.

~~~~~

“Fee,” Kíli said, voice high-pitched but full of naive certainty. “Amad is wrong.”

“About what, Kee?” Fíli asked, reaching for his brother’s hand.

“She said I have ‘One True Love’.”

Long since tucked into their bed, Fíli fought his heavy eyelids. “Oh, that.”

“You know about this?” Kíli’s voice rose in anger, and Fíli had to keep him from sitting up.

“Shh, they’ll hear us,” Fíli murmured, squeezing Kíli’s small hand.

Kíli turned his shadowed face toward his brother and in an exaggerated whisper said, “Why do you know everything before me? It’s not fair.”

“I’m much older than you,” Fíli said, sure of the wisdom provided by the barely-there stubble starting to show on his chin.

“Not that much,” Kíli hissed, jerking his hand away. “Do you have a ‘One True Love,’ then?”

Fíli scoffed. “Of course not. That’s just a legend. A myth.” He wasn’t sure of the right words, but he was sure he was right. Old people were as ridiculous as Kíli sometimes. “A story amads and adads like to tell.”

“Oh. Good.” After a long, thoughtful pause, Kíli finished with, “We will be Thorin’s best scouts, and he will take us on all his adventures.”

Fíli wasn’t impressed with this ‘One True Love’ business, either, but he wasn’t sure it would prevent them from realizing Kíli’s current dream. Still, he was too sleepy to argue. “We’ll be too busy and important for love. Just like Thorin.”

“That’s what I tried to tell Amad, but then she just looked sad.” Kíli’s voice was fading, eyes drooping, but he perked up to finish his thoughts. “But I said Fíli is better than some silly ‘One True Love’ person anyway, and that cheered her right up.”

“'Sright,” Fíli nodded, dozing off.

“Some of the time!” Kíli added - much too loudly - and Fíli was sure he heard footsteps coming their way. “When you’re not pretending to be smarter than me.”

“Be quiet and go to sleep,” Fíli said, with all the older-brother authority he could fit into a whisper.

Kíli listened to him this time, although it may have been that the threat of parental authority played more of a role. Fíli decided he better get the last word just in case. “I’m always better.”

A soft snore was his only response.

~~~~~

A black witch moth landed on Fíli’s arm and startled him up and wide awake. It flitted its huge, white-striped wings in front of his face briefly before continuing on its way. Blinking gritty eyes, he shook his head, which he was lucky to still have, unsure how he’d managed to doze with his thoughts swirling so fiercely. _Possibly something to do with overdoing the wood chopping,_ he thought wryly, before the whole day slammed back onto his head and shoulders.

“Shit.” Stiff and aching, he stood up and twisted cold water out of his hair. The automatic laugh at how long it would take Kíli to untangle it hit him like a gut strike. Slumping, he closed his eyes with a sigh, and then he forced himself to stand straight.

He didn’t want to go home, but he also didn’t want people out looking for him when he didn’t show up. So he picked his way through the dark, rocky path out of the little cave as the sky was fading to purple.

He entered the gate into the mountain and forced himself through the darkened halls to his family’s rooms. If he could go anywhere at all without unduly worrying his mother, he would, but that was a silly wish. He just didn’t want to see sympathy, questions, concern on her face. He couldn’t stand the thought of her poking at his bruised ego, however well intended.

He slunk into a quiet common room, shoulders sagging in relief at its emptiness. A candle flickered under his mother’s door. He forced himself to eat. He trudged up stone stairs and forced himself to change into clean clothes. His mind struggled between relief that Kíli was out and tension that he was out alone.

He thought he should start packing. He looked at his bed and collapsed on it, not bothering with night clothes or covers.

His eyes were heavy, and he settled in comfortably, but he couldn’t sleep. Of course he couldn’t sleep. Kíli’s face was all he saw - too still, and then shifting to confusion, disbelief. Fíli was sure he’d never felt such a maelstrom of emotions, confusion, disappointment, sadness, embarrassment, dread, all incongruently tinged with desire. He tried his side and his stomach and then gave up.

He sat up and sighed. Kíli wanted to talk to him, and he needed to talk to Kíli. He couldn’t leave things like this between them.  

He got up and slipped out of the house. He walked through the high grey halls toward the mountain’s various drinking establishments, passing several small groups of boisterous dwarves.

Fíli stopped when their favorite tavern came into view. He took a deep breath, looking at the cheerful light spilling out of the windows. Then he squared his shoulders, swallowed his pride, and strode toward the door.

 

* * *

 

The tavern had started to fill in and get louder since Kíli had first walked in, and that suited him just fine. He ignored Dori’s scandalized griping and surveyed the room for a familiar face – or, at the very least, a pretty one.

Luck was on his side at last. Kíli caught the eye of a handsome dwarf and winked. He got a smile and a nod of the head in return. Kíli grinned, took a deep pull of his ale, and strode across the room.

_Would a dwarf who has just found his One find any other quite so pleasing? I think not!_

KIli didn’t notice the hush that came over the room as the door swung open behind him, all of his senses focused on the dwarf sprawled comfortably at a table in front of him. He was tall, like Kíli, but broad-chested and fairhaired, his beard a respectable length, but not long or ostentatious. Kíli licked his lip, anticipation building. Just his type. Kíli knew his tastes were unusual for a dwarf, but the heart (not to mention other parts of him) wanted what it wanted.

And that was a relief. Yes, he was still the same dwarf he had been that morning. No kiss had changed that.

It was only after he had slid onto the bench next to the handsome dwarf and whispered a proposition in his ear that Kíli noticed his brother standing in the doorway, staring at him with parted lips. Their eyes caught and held.

Kíli’s frustration and stubbornness were submerged under the look on Fíli’s face. His instincts screamed that his brother was hurt, and the only thing he wanted was to make the pain stop. But as Kíli stood up, Fíli turned his back and strode away.

_Running away again, Fíli?_

Kíli’s anger resurfaced, and he let the strong hand on his arm pull him back down.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the response to the first chapter, and for coming back to read more! We hope you're still, er, enjoying the angst, haha :)


	3. Chapter 3

Kíli stumbled into their shared bedroom just an hour or so before dawn, his conscience guilty even though he knew he’d done nothing wrong. He tried to be quiet – their mother wouldn’t approve of Kíli spending the night elsewhere, even if he was a dwarf grown (more or less). But she wasn’t the one Kíli was trying to avoid.

Kíli entered the room and froze. Naturally, Fíli was already awake. Kíli rolled his eyes as his stomach dropped – any other day, it would have been a struggle to get Fíli out of bed at a reasonable time. They locked eyes for a moment; if Fíli felt anything but mild disdain over the intrusion, he chose not to show it.

Kíli opened his mouth – to say what, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps explain that nothing had happened, that he and the dwarf from the tavern had gone their separate ways, in the end. He shook his head. He didn’t owe Fíli an explanation. No, if anyone owed an explanation, it was Fíli.

Fíli turned his back and continued dressing, the message clear. Nothing had changed since yesterday, and Kíli swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat as he fumbled with the ties of his shirt. Fíli had never shut him out like this. Ever. They had fought before, of course, but at least then, Kíli had understood the offense, even if he didn’t always agree he’d been in the wrong.

_Why won’t you talk to me, Fíli? Hasn’t it been long enough yet?_

Kíli slid into bed, eyes on his brother, watched as the powerful muscles of his back disappeared beneath his tunic. Watched as Fíli brushed his hair out and braided it, carefully fixing the beads in place. The silence dragged. Kíli’s cheeks grew warm, followed quickly by the rest of him. Since he was old enough, he usually braided his brother’s hair. Kíli would only have to sit up, reach out a hand and rest it on one of those broad shoulders, but he knew his assistance would not be welcome now.

_Was that why you always let me help you, Fíli? Because you love me?_

Kíli tried to muster some form of disgust over the perversion of those cherished memories, something like what Ori had demonstrated at the tavern, but he could not do it. He just wanted to hear Fíli’s voice. To have Fíli look at him. Anything.

If Fíli could sense his brother’s thoughts, he made no show of it.

And this, Kíli didn’t understand. He felt like he was being punished, like Fíli was deliberately leaving him out, withholding the answers Kíli needed in order to make any sense out of this. It was unfair; Kíli couldn’t make himself feel things he didn’t feel – to pretend otherwise went against his very nature. But he wanted to understand what Fíli was feeling; wanted to understand how Fíli could even _have_ a One True Love – how he knew, and how he had kept it a secret. Had Fíli been lying to him all these years? Kíli smashed his face into his pillow and groaned.

He wouldn’t say it out loud, but Kíli had always thought Fíli was the greatest dwarf in the world. When Kíli was younger, he had looked up to Fíli more than anyone – even Thorin. But what Fíli was doing now was cowardly. It was unlike him, and it was beneath him, and something in Kíli’s chest ached at the thought that maybe this was who Fíli really was: deceptive, craven, selfish. Three times, Fíli had turned his back on him. Three times, Fíli had shut him out. And Kíli was tired of it. If Fíli would just _talk_ to him and explain…

“Can it be ‘later’ yet?” Kíli rasped, looking up.

But Fíli was gone.

And with him, Kíli felt, went any hope of reconciliation.

 

* * *

 

Fíli felt like he had when he first recognized the strength of his feelings for Kíli, when he realized he reacted to Kíli’s smiles with more than long-accustomed affinity, when the most common touches - the brush of Kíli’s hand while braiding his hair, a playful shove, a frustrated tug -  meant suppressing lust before responding in kind.

Kíli had finally gotten out of bed and now had his back to him, carelessly shoving clothing into a travel pack as Fíli assessed and counted and folded before packing anything. He tried to ignore Kíli’s presence, every single thought and emotion related to his brother, but he ended up counting a pile of shirts about fifty times.

Just like the weeks during which his feelings for Kíli emerged and coalesced, before he learned to recognize and then manage them, his thoughts were full of Kíli, so much so that he could almost believe the romantics’ constant blather about “Ones”. Almost. Except he never felt the lightning bolt of certainty that supposedly came along with finding your soulmate. No signal, voice, or shooting star ever let him know that his feelings for Kíli were real, acceptable, blessed.

He had been left with a strange kind of mourning. Kíli was still there, thankfully still _Kíli,_ but Fíli had lost something nonetheless. He fought through denial, anger, and grief for his inappropriate feelings, for the need to keep them hidden, for the loss of the ease and innocence of their pure sibling bond. And then finally acceptance, admittedly tempered with a dose of suppression, but it was not too heavy of a burden to bear to stay close to the person he loved to be with more than anything else. To keep their little family together and happy and strong.

Now. Shattered.

Fíli’s heart and breath had sped up, yet he moved in slow motion. He halted, gulped a breath, closed beads for his braids into a safe inner pocket of his pack. He kept moving. He wondered if Kíli remembered that this quest they prepared for meant that one of his fleeting dream occupations was being realized. At one time or another during their childhood, Kíli had decided they'd be kings, caravan guard captains, ship admirals, brew masters, envoys to the elves, high-speed messengers, generals, and more. Had he ever decided on one? Did it even matter to Thorin’s heirs?

He was tired of his thoughts, tired of the silence. He asked, “Do you remember wanting to be a scout?”

Kíli’s shoulders jerked as if he had been lost in thought. Without turning around, he responded with a flat, “I’m not interested in talking.”

Staring at Kíli's rigid back, the cold stone walls closing in on them, Fíli tried to form a fitting apology or explanation or something to repair this mess between them before it collapsed into an unbridgeable chasm. Kíli sighed and continued his haphazard packing exercise. Fíli shook his head and tried to resume his half-hearted attire analysis. He couldn’t do it.

This quest of Thorin’s. He and Kíli had been so excited about it. A lifetime ago. The day before yesterday. Before yesterday. Before he had kissed his brother. He threw down whatever useless garment he twisted in his hands and stomped out of their room, past his mother’s concerned eyes, out of their home and into the grey hall through the mountain. “Shit,” he groused.

His mind skittered toward and away from yesterday. But why? Why had the kiss worked if Kíli didn’t share his feelings? What had really happened yesterday? He ran into something.

“Have some care there, son,” the thing yelled.

Fíli focused on the voice. “Óin. I apologize. Are you all right?”

“Of course I’m all right. How is that troublemaker of yours?”

Fíli’s heart thudded. Kíli wasn’t his.

“Fíli?” Óin thundered. “Something wrong with you, too?”

“No. No, I’m fine,” Fíli managed. “Kíli is fine.”

“Good, good. Strange thing, that. Why that boy insists on defying Mahal’s will I’ll never fathom.”

Fíli tried to unclench his fists and jaw. He tried not to direct his frustration at Óin. But he wanted the old dwarf out of his way. “Excuse me, I’m just going to-”

Óin didn’t hear or didn’t care. He shook his grey head, chuckling. “You and Kíli. Imagine that. Always thought you had a good thing going. But that good? Well, now.”

Fíli’s eyes widened. He glanced around to ensure they were alone. This could _not_ be happening. And _what_ had the old bastard just said?

“Excuse me?”

“I said,” Óin managed to get louder, “that boy needs to grow up. How dare he question the gift of One True Love.”

“Leave him alone,” Fíli growled, heedless of Óin’s narrowing eyes. “Kíli has done nothing wrong.”

“You both need to learn respect,” Óin grumbled, shaking his head. “What has Thorin been teaching you, I’ll give him a piece of my mind tonight, your poor mother, what would she think...” He shuffled toward the Durin abode, continuing his litany.

Fíli blinked and then continued his flight on the path away from his brother. From his best friend. Another dwarf came toward him, and this time Fíli halted before slamming into him.

“Fíli.”

“Thorin.”

“How fares Kíli?”

“Kíli. Is. Fine.” Fíli ground out.

Thorin raised an eyebrow.

“Thank. You. For. Asking.” Stomach churning, Fíli forced his face to stillness, kept his voice flat.

“What ails you?”

Fíli felt the grind of his teeth down his neck and into his taut shoulders. This should never have been a topic for discussion. He didn’t want to lie to his uncle. He didn’t want to be disrespectful to his uncle. But- “I can’t talk now.”

“It will work out,” Thorin stated, voice deep and commanding as if his words created truth.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Fíli said, edging around his uncle and ignoring the Durin glare trying to burn a hole through the back of his head.

~~~~~

“You’ve been acting weird lately,” Kíli said between the drill instructor’s barked orders, as he and Fíli moved at the front and center of one of their regular outdoor combat training sessions.

Fíli glanced over at his brother, at his dark Durin profile and non-Durin litheness that made these drills a game for him. He performed the moves flawlessly, yet in a half-joking manner, mocking the trainer’s ceaseless gravity.

“How, weird?” Fíli responded between breaths, eyes on the instructor. The brute had no official power over Thorin’s heirs, but Fíli found it unwise to court his displeasure. He would just ensure their muscles felt his retribution the next day, and sometimes the one following.

Three lines of dwarves grunted in unison as they swung weighted cudgels, heavier but smaller stand-ins for pikes and axes and the variety of weapons that may be called upon in pitched battle. The younger dwarves couldn’t imagine more than skirmishes, but the elders insisted upon preparation and tried to instill the discipline and unity needed to protect their small numbers.

“Losing concentration, showing emotion,” Kíli breathed. “You know. Acting like a normal dwarf.”

Fíli snorted and took advantage of Kíli’s and the instructor’s inattention to swing his shield too wide. Kíli stumbled, the dwarf on his other side snickered, and Fíli grinned. “Watch your step, dwarfling.”

Kíli tensed to retaliate, but well-tuned survival instincts recognized an authoritative gaze shifting their way, and the brothers fell back into step. “So what’s bothering you?” Kíli pestered.

Fíli breathed in time to the movement of his back and shoulders, Kíli’s breaths. His stomach flipped. _I live for you, Kee._ He glanced at Kíli, at the relaxed stance, lines of mirth around mouth and eyes. Kíli felt it, looked over. The dark eyes flickered. Concern.

At a bellowed command, the front line kneeled in unison, frozen with shields up, as those behind them swung over their heads. Hidden behind their shields, Kíli leaned toward Fíli. “Tell me.”

And there, sharing heat and air for just a moment, Fíli almost did. The ache in his chest was so new, so raw, Kíli his closest confidante, it felt right to just spill it. Face it together. Kíli leaned closer. Fíli took a deep breath, opened his mouth. “All right - if it’ll shut you up.” A breath. Another. “I want-”

“Bloody flaming orc shit, Fíli! What in Mahal’s name are you doing down there?” their instructor roared. The second line hit their backs, and Fíli barely stopped himself falling face first on his shield as he flung an arm out to support Kíli. The brothers stood up as the drill faltered and then stuttered back into place. Oh, this was going to hurt tomorrow.

“You shame your family name, you pathetic sacks of troll offal,” the barrage continued. There would be no more conversation. The only remaining words would be commands.

~~~~~

The memory of that day was bright in his mind, as if it were several days instead of years ago. The elders, Fíli rolled his eyes. They insisted on battle training, yet so few had heeded Thorin’s call to retake the land of their birth. They would stay in the remote north to protect this shadow of a dwarven realm with its iron mines buffered by elves and humans. Who would even want to take it from them?

Fíli sat on a rock ledge, 3,000 feet above the sea he knew was out there, just beyond vision, feet dangling over a precipice that tumbled down to a rocky valley. Pine trees below tapered to hardy shrubs above. Rhododendron, laurel, and blueberry - tough as the dwarves, beautiful as Kíli. Dís used to bring Kíli and him up here to pick blueberries. Many of the older dwarves looked askance at that, but never let that stop them from eating the delicious desserts she made from their harvest.

Fíli and Kíli never continued that aborted conversation. There had been no need. Too tired after the seemingly endless drills under a merciless sun, he and Kíli had dragged themselves out for ale and supported each other’s unsteady meandering path home. Fíli liked what they had. It took some time, but one by one, he gently locked away the new feelings.

They were usually together anyway. How many nights had he stayed up late with Kíli, sometimes with Dís or Thorin or Balin, sometimes just the two of them, poring over old maps, planning their route to Erebor? Their strategies assumed an army of dwarves. Even their most conservative estimates wouldn’t have guessed at twelve. Twelve dwarves willing to help Thorin win back their ancestral home.

Very late at night, very quietly, they had shared doubts about Thorin’s objective. Why so few? Was the light in Thorin’s eyes just a little too bright? Was their mother just a little too quiet?

Their hands met on maps so many times, the brush of fingers of no concern to Kíli, quietly satisfying to Fíli. The day before yesterday, they were best friends. Fíli had Kíli in almost every way he needed him and a rein on the rest. Yesterday he told himself he would be happy to wake Kíli even if his love wasn’t returned.

Had he really thought that? It would have made sense if the manner of the curse, the awakening, was almost anything other than a true love’s kiss. It was all so ridiculous, unreal. He swore and kicked the rock, hard, with a heel. He hadn’t allowed himself to hope, but it had always been a possibility.

No longer.

The feelings he’d carefully contained for three years were set free to catalyze that exquisite, aching moment of hope. It died a moment later.

 

* * *

 

Thorin swept into their home the next day, while Fíli’s little family shared a silent breakfast, and declared a weapons practice session with the dwarves who had pledged to follow him. Fíli didn’t miss the silent discussion between his mother and her brother, spoken through their eyes and between the lines. Something was wrong with Fíli and Kíli, and Dís had asked for help. Thorin was trying, Dís was worried but hopeful, Thorin was impatient and determined this wouldn’t affect the quest, Dís wasn’t impressed with the relative importance of said quest.

Fíli played this out in his mind in silence, while Kíli kept his eyes on the food he pushed around his plate. Thorin ended with his typical expectation of immediate obedience.

“Thirty minutes.” He glared at Fíli until Fíli jerked a nod and then shifted hard eyes to Kíli.

“Kíli!” their uncle barked.

Two days ago, Fíli would’ve swallowed a laugh and kicked his brother under the table. Today he just swallowed.

“Kíli, I am speaking to you!”

“I heard you,” Kíli muttered, not looking up.

Now Fíli looked down at his half-full plate so he wouldn’t see the muscles shifting in Thorin’s jaw, his face turning red in a vain attempt to keep his temper in check. Some instinct finally broke through Kíli’s defiance, and he recognized the danger. “All right,” he grumbled. “Thirty minutes.”

 

Exactly thirty minutes later, Fíli and Kíli stood just inside the wide doorway of the high, square hall that served as their indoor combat practice arena. Adjacent to the armory and dimly lit by unseen skylights, it was primarily used for close-quarters sparring. They entered and halted simultaneously. Fíli glanced at Kíli, but his brother’s eyes stayed on the strange scene in front of them.

All would’ve participated in the battle training required of every dwarf, but whether it was augmented outside of regular drills or continued after it ceased being compulsory varied by dwarf. Fíli would’ve been in here on a regular basis even if Thorin had not required it of his nephews. Kíli would have, too, if less often than Fíli.

Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin stood toward the front right side of the hall in loud discussion punctuated with hand gestures. Those of least familiarity to Fíli, Dori and his brothers and the miners, stood in an uncertain line in the middle of the room. Of those, only Dori, despite appearing more concerned with his grey braids and clothing than weapons, frequented the hall. Óin and Glóin, another regular, had entered in front of Fíli and Kíli and looked back and forth between the two groups as if they didn’t know where they belonged.

Fíli rolled his shoulders and moved forward, gesturing to Óin and Glóin to follow him. He led them, and presumably Kíli, past a raised eyebrow from Thorin to the battered wooden door at the front left. The door opened into the back of the armory and its collection of wooden practice weapons and other sparring paraphernalia.

“Get a shield and a weapon,” he said as he grabbed two wooden swords.

Glóin immediately grabbed an axe, Kíli pressed his eyes closed before moving toward a sword, and Óin hesitated before a line of staves.

“Thorin will want us practicing with a shield,” Kíli said, moving next to Óin.

Óin nodded toward Kíli and looked toward the swords. Fíli left with the others behind him and headed toward Dwalin as he growled the same directions Fíli had. Dwalin paired Fíli and Kíli. Fíli opened his mouth to protest - normally the more experienced fighters would be paired with the less, and Mahal knew there were plenty of the latter.

Kíli beat him to it. “I’ll work with Óin.”

“You’ll do as I say, boy.”

The Durin glare didn’t work on Dwalin, even when it came from Thorin, so Kíli didn’t have a chance. Kíli sighed in tandem with Fíli.

Dwalin directed the others against a stone wall to watch, Thorin near them with arms crossed. Dwalin and his double axes stood across from Balin with a wooden copy of his favored, oddly shaped sword.

Dwalin instructed the group to watch the pairs carefully, to see how they exchanged attacks and counter attacks in a rhythm designed to warm muscles and practice techniques that could be used in true sparring matches later. Dwalin’s words washed over Fíli, and he could tell they swirled right past Kíli. The world was narrowing to the two of them.

Fíli relaxed into his opening stance - swords held up at an angle, the left above and behind the right - and watched Kíli do the same, sword held directly in front of him. Their eyes connected, Kíli’s normally expressive ones unreadable, and Fíli couldn’t break away.

Fíli barely heard Dwalin’s command to start as Kíli lunged forward. Caught off guard, the point of the sword almost got through Fíli’s guard, but instinct took over. Fíli parried with his left at the same time he thrust with his right, and he almost got a touch. But Kíli was well used to that and already out of the way.

Kíli charged at Fíli in a whirl of slashes and cuts aimed at Fíli’s neck and legs. Fíli held his ground, blocking each stroke with his right hand and getting the feel of Kíli’s strategy. Kíli’s eyes burned, and Fíli had enough. He slammed Kíli’s sword toward the ground with his left hand and slashed toward Kíli’s neck with his right. Kíli crashed his shield into Fíli’s sword with more force than necessary and danced a step back, sword jerked up in front of his face.

The circled each other, eyes narrowed. The clack clack of Dwalin’s and Balin’s more measured effort filtered through the blood rushing in Fíli’s ears. Kíli moved like a cat.

Kíli attacked again, a lightning quick slash toward Fíli’s weak side followed by his shield crashing into Fíli’s right. Fíli held Kíli’s sword away to the left, the shield pushing against his right sword. Kíli pushed back. “You’re not as good as you think, you know,” Kíli hissed, for Fíli’s ears only.

“I’m better than you,” Fíli responded in kind, and with a shove of his right hand sent Kíli staggering back several steps.

Kíli flashed a smile that didn’t reach his dark eyes, and slithered sideways. Fíli charged, his blades a blur in front of him, chopping like they were axes, driving Kíli back toward the wall. Kíli absorbed the charge, blocking with shield and sword until he was a pace from the wall. Fíli put all his strength into a closing double thrust, and Kíli ducked and slid around, so that Fíli was the one nearest the wall.

On guard, not yet breathing hard, a bead of sweat ran down Fíli’s face. “You can’t beat me.”

“Shithead,” Kíli growled, balanced as if to pounce.

He pounced, and Fíli captured Kíli’s sword between his own, held it. Kíli pressed forward, until Fíli imagined he could feel his breath, still even. “I told you. You can’t beat me, Kíli.”

Kíli’s eyes narrowed further. “Who kisses their brother on the lips, Fíli?” he hissed venom.

Fíli felt like he’d been punched in the gut, and then his physical world collided with the mental punch, as Kíli kicked him hard in the stomach. Fíli hit the wall, and then used it to propel him forward, hacking at Kíli’s weapons, nudging them apart. Kíli barely blocked a vicious thrust, and Fíli pressed his advantage, using his superior strength to drive Kíli back the other way. He didn’t give Kíli time to recover.

Now their breath was quickening, and despite the concentration needed to counter Fíli’s attack, Kíli sneered, “Kisses and runs.”

Fíli swung harder. Kíli swung his shield sideways, vicious and perfectly timed to sweep Fíli’s weapons to the side and allow for a counter attack. Fíli spun and his swords met Kíli’s before it got close. “Hurt your pride, did I?” Kíli continued.

The room was silent but for their harsh breaths, Kíli’s verbal attacks. Vaguely Fíli knew that meant eleven pairs of eyes focused on their fight, but the thought passed in a flicker as he fought the tight chest, the sinking feeling in his stomach. _No. Enough._ He would not be beaten by words.

“My little milksop, can’t stand to be away from me,” Fíli said, eyes on Kíli’s torso, watching for his next move.

Kíli snorted, shifted left. “I don’t need you.”

“The only time you don’t need me is when you’re trying to bed older dwarves." Eyes still on Kíli’s middle. “Child.”

Kíli growled. Fíli stilled his own face.

“Two-faced Fíli.” Kíli grinned with a testing slice. “How long you been lying to me?”

 _No. No, it wasn’t like that._ With a yell, Fíli slammed his left sword into Kíli’s, driving it into Kíli’s shield. He raised his right arm high, and Kíli couldn’t counter the backhand chop coming at his neck. He didn’t try. Kíli followed his shield to the ground, rolled away, and jumped back up. Fíli didn’t let him get set, tackling him with swords crossed in front of him.

Kíli landed hard on his back, panting. Someone was yelling. Probably Dwalin, maybe Thorin. Fíli was on top of Kíli, their weapons trapped between them. Their eyes met. Kíli swore, and with a yell shoved up and right so he could roll left. As Fíli started to stand up, Kíli kicked his feet so that Fíli landed on his knees. Kíli’s sword came for his stomach, Fíli parried, and he was back up and away. “Child.”

Kíli stood and flung his shield away. It hit stone with a dull thud. Dwalin’s cursing demands didn’t register. With a two-handed grip and a horrible yell, Kíli charged Fíli, lifted the sword, and cut downward with all his strength. Kíli got close, but Fíli caught and held Kíli’s sword so that the point was hovering over his head. “You can’t beat me,” Fíli hissed.

Kíli’s hard eyes narrowed as he started to respond, but Fíli was done. With a grunt, he shoved Kíli’s sword up as he kicked Kíli back, then shoved it up again with his right sword, jamming the hilt of his left into Kíli’s stomach.

Some distant part of Fíli’s mind was pleased that Kíli fought the urge to double over, instead punching Fíli with his right hand. But that left Kíli with his sword up in the air on his weak side, and Fíli swept it out of his hand with a crash. His sword was at Kíli’s neck.

“Yield.”

“Piss off.”

Fíli dropped his left sword, and bore Kíli to the ground. He sat on Kíli’s stomach, his right sword stayed at Kíli’s neck. Kíli glared daggers. “Get. Off. Me.”

“You lose,” Fíli said, dismissively, glancing up. In absolute silence, Dwalin looked like he would tear their heads off. Thorin still held a relaxed stance with arms crossed, but his face was red. The others - some with mouths open, some with wide eyes - all stared at him.

Kíli shoved him off and stalked toward the exit. Fíli’s eyes tracked him, straight back, long stride.

“Well,” Balin said. “Well, lads, now there is an example of what not to do in your drills today.”

Fíli shook off his shock and stood up. Balin continued saying something about battle tactics versus sparring. Fíli threw down his swords, a breach of etiquette that he couldn’t be bothered with, and followed his brother. He would’ve gone anyway, but he caught Thorin’s terse nod as he strode past.

 

* * *

 

Kíli left the mountain as Fíli knew he would, and ended up with his back and head against a boulder near their favorite cold mountain stream.

Fíli stopped at the look on Kíli’s face. No longer guarded, it showed a mix of physical pain, frustration, anger, and - Yes. More pain. But not physical. _Oh, Kíli._

Kíli’s words still stung, and part of Fíli wanted to fling them back at his brother, but the rest of him was just too exhausted. He also knew that Kíli could beat him with words just as surely as Fíli had defeated him with a sword. He took a few steps closer, Kíli just watching him. Seeing nothing on his face that said “stop”, Fíli slid down the rock a foot away from Kíli.  He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

He listened to the water, Kíli’s gasping breaths eventually evening out, slowing.

“You fought well,” Fíli said, keeping his eyes closed.

Fíli could almost feel Kíli struggling to put a rein on his temper. “Not well enough,” he muttered.

“Well enough for anyone but me,” Fíli said, with just a bit of a smile in his voice.

“Braggart,” Kíli grumbled, but it lacked the earlier vitriol.

After a while, Kíli spoke again. “I just wish you would have talked to me two days ago.”

“I wish-” Fíli began, _that I didn’t love you this way, that the stag had just been a stag. That you loved me like I love you._ He swallowed. “Yes.”

“I think it’s too late now.”

Fíli’s eyes snapped open, and he looked over at Kíli’s profile, dark lashes on flushed cheeks, dark stubble around his pulled-down mouth. “No. Kíli, I-”

“It never seemed to bother you before,” Kíli said toward the water. “My... relationships. Such as they are.”

Fíli sighed, the words on his tongue before Kíli had interrupted him sour. _I came to talk to you._ He rubbed hands down his face. “I was angry.”

“Angry,” Kíli growled. “Well, that’s all right then!”

Fíli wasn’t going to point out how hurtful Kíli himself had been. Kíli would be well aware of that. _Give me one more chance._ “Let’s go home.”

They didn’t speak, but they did enter their house together.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Fíli woke slowly in his dim room, cool air on his face. He stretched in the luxurious moment before memory awakened, too, and then glanced toward Kíli’s bed. His heart sank. The covers were twisted and rumpled and empty of his brother. That was normal, but it felt different today.

Fíli pressed his head back into the pillow and stared at the familiar grey stone of the ceiling. Very soon he would be looking up at stars. A thrill of anticipation made it through the fog of recent events. They had planned this adventure for so long, and despite the last few days, it was about to happen. Really happen. His chest felt lighter than it had in days as he pictured it as it should’ve been… he and his brother as partners in their uncle’s quest, traveling together, their bond as strong as it was before.

But how could it ever be as it was before?

Last night he and Kíli had managed to have a civil family dinner, for their mother’s sake. It had been barely more than small talk, and it hadn't been easy, forcing stilted conversation with people who had until recently been the most effortless to talk to. Fíli had kept his face and voice stoic like they were mere acquaintances, while Kíli was clearly nursing some resentment toward Amad - as if she and Fíli had somehow planned the whole stupid thing.

Fíli told himself to quit wallowing, get moving. He had so much still to prepare, but the heaviness was back. His body was sinking into the bed. He groaned, frustrated with this unrelenting, uncharacteristic uncertainty. He pressed his eyes closed and tried to loosen his aching jaw.

An unbidden image of Kíli with the blond dwarf from the tavern flashed in Fíli’s mind, and he felt his face flush. He opened his eyes wide. Shit, he had _handled_ this: he had simply never imagined Kíli with the others before. It was not his business.

But now he had lost Kíli, and he wanted Kíli back, and he let the pain in and, with it, a stab of desire. An errant thought of watching someone else’s hand trail down Kíli’s naked back, of his brother in passion, filtered through his mind. His groin stirred as his gut ached. Yet it was even worse to imagine his own hands there. A growl started deep in his throat; he had to be done with this. He swore, threw the covers off, and rolled out of bed.

Fíli stood for a moment and ran hands through his hair. He took a deep breath, changed clothes, and firmly put his brother out of his mind as he braided his own hair. Again. _Just keep moving_ , he thought as he headed for the kitchen.

Kíli’s back was to him at the dining table, glossy hair tied up, facing Dis. Fíli halted as his brother’s strident tone filtered back to him, voice deep and unsettled. He watched Kíli’s long arms gesturing along with words like “should”, “suspected”, “why”, and “told me”. Dis stirred in her seat but kept her eyes on her youngest.

Even if Fíli had wanted to talk, he wouldn't interrupt this. He slunk as quietly as he could around the common room to the back door of the pantry for some venison jerky and then headed back around toward the entryway.

Fíli tied on his boots, shouldered an empty bag, and almost believed he would make it out without being noticed. But Kíli looked up as the door opened, and Dis’s eyes followed. Fíli nodded quickly and left, heading toward the forge. He knew Kíli would go to the fletcher’s and then the armory to gather hunting and fishing tools. Normally they would expect to meet later in the day for lunch, but today wasn't normal-

And he wasn't alone.

He glanced at Kíli. Kíli glanced at him. They kept walking, eyes forward. Kíli sighed. Fíli’s chest tightened. Their footsteps echoed as they automatically settled into a matching pace. They nodded to a passing dwarf. Kíli sighed again. Fíli swallowed.

Traffic picked up as they approached the merchants’ quarter. They turned away from the entertainment district toward the artisans’ hall. The smell of fire, iron, and coal filled the hall as they got closer.

“Have you given up?” Kíli asked.

“Given- What?” Fíli looked over at his brother, lips parted. “You're the one who said it's too late!”

“I was angry,” Kíli responded with just a hint of mocking in his voice.

It made Fíli’s lips quirk despite the pain in his chest. He wanted to pretend everything was fine, like what had happened wasn't really a big thing after all. It might work. They could agree that nothing had happened, go back to the way they were. He met Kíli’s dark eyes, and he knew it wasn't possible. Kíli held Fíli’s heart in his hands, and he didn't know how to get it back.

And he knew his brother wouldn’t just let this go.

Kíli’s answering grin was as beautiful as it was fleeting. Fíli shook his head and focused forward.

“Nothing happened,” Kíli said.

 _What?_ He tilted his head back toward Kíli, eyebrows raised.

“Nothing happened,” Kíli repeated as Fíli opened the heavy wooden door into their forge’s anteroom. They stood on the threshold, Kíli directly behind him, so close. “The night before last. With that dwarf. We just talked.”

Fíli entered, and Kíli kicked the door closed. “I don't,” Fíli started, back still to his brother. But, no, he couldn't say he didn't care now. He threw his bag on a chair and tried again. “You're free to do as you wish.”

Kíli dropped into the other chair and leaned back, legs sprawled in front of him. Fíli felt Kíli’s eyes follow him as he gathered tools from various shelves. “Kíli, why are you here?”

“To talk.”

“I - we - have things to do.” Fíli threw his first cache on his bag with a clang.

“Yeah. We need to talk.” At a glance, Kíli was infuriatingly calm. His tapping heel on the floor and long fingers on his knee belied that. It was a small comfort.

“You were upset that I was doing ‘as I wish’.”

Fíli groaned as he opened heavy wooden drawers and grabbed more tools. He was sure he'd had a plan, but now he barely knew what he was picking up. “I came to talk to you that night,” Fíli said. “That was all.”

Fíli looked up as the silence stretched. Kíli's face was pale. “I'm sorry,” Kíli mumbled.

Fíli resumed his search for now-random tools. He grabbed a pair of heavy gloves, found another. “Kíli, you've nothing to apologize for,” Fíli’s voice sounded too loud in his ears. He stopped moving, exhaled. “You haven't done anything wrong.”

The forge was cold, quiet, walls bare - all products sold or given away - as if they were already gone. Until a few days ago, Fíli hadn't known it was possible to be so aware of his heartbeat, his pulse. He felt it in the silence. He grabbed another tool and then made the mistake of looking at Kíli; his dark eyes smoldered, trapped Fíli there.

“I want you to talk to me now,” Kíli growled. “What’s going on with you? How long has it been going on?” Kíli’s eyebrows drew together. “Why didn't you _tell_ me?”

Fíli loved Kíli’s rambling, but he couldn't handle it now. With a huff, Fíli looked at the metal in his hand. A spade. _Why is there a spade in a forge?_ He shrugged and threw it next to the gloves on his bag.

Fíli backed away from Kíli’s eyes and leaned against the cold stone wall. He forced words through his clenched jaw. “What is there to talk about?” he spat, with more force than intended, took a breath and looked at his brother’s drawn face.

“I want you, you don't want me,” Fíli continued in a rush. Kíli’s mid-sentence gasp surprised him. Wasn't it obvious now?

But Kíli looked stunned, eyes unfocused. “You- Want. Me.” He blinked at Fíli. _"Want_ me?”

 _Oh no._ Fíli’s head dropped. He really didn't want to discuss this. It was bad enough to be rejected, but to have to replay it, pick it apart, _hear_ that he’d crossed a line...

Kíli smacked his hand on a thigh. Fíli started and looked up into blazing eyes. “For how long?” Kíli seethed.

Fíli shook his head, pressed his hands against the wall. How was it possible to ache to touch Kíli at the same time as longing to be as far away as possible?

“How long?” Kíli snapped.

Fíli ran a hand up his face. “About three years,” he murmured, looking at the floor. “I. I can't talk about this, Kíli, it isn't right. Why would you want to hear this now?” he finished helplessly, looking up and spreading his hands in front of him.

Kíli had a thousand questions and couldn't choose which to ask. Fíli could see the storm on Kíli’s face.

“What else have you hidden from me?” Kíli asked, his eyes shining.

Fíli’s arms dropped. That wasn't the question Fíli had expected. But it was one he could answer. “I'll show you.”

 

* * *

 

They kept a healthy distance between each other as they strode out of the mountain and through its gate into a cool, cloudy day. Neither had acknowledged the assessing stares or raised eyebrows from the dwarves they passed. Thorin’s heirs were used to attention, but this level of wildfire gossip was shocking. And unwelcome. Fíli kept his back straight and chin up, matching Kíli's long strides and hoping he effected the nonchalance on the outside that he had lost inside.

Fíli glanced over at his brother after they'd left the gate behind, following a rocky game trail northeast of the entrance. He was impressed - Kíli had kept his face as blank as Fíli’s, just a crease between his dark eyebrows betraying the storm inside.

The path was a gradual decline that ran into a steep incline, and it was a jump over a narrow rushing stream and a scramble over lichen-covered boulders up to a narrow path headed back toward the mountain’s face. Kíli’s face was flushed with exertion, but his breath was even, as was Fíli’s. Gnarled evergreens huddled on rocks, needles sighing in a light breeze that cooled the sweat on his forehead. An eagle’s scream overhead sounded forlorn.

Kíli stumbled over a root. Without a thought, Fíli grabbed Kíli’s arm to steady him and then jerked away before Kíli could shake him off. The touch elicited a jolt of heat that just... shouldn’t be.  

“This looks familiar,” Kíli said, looking up and right toward a narrow gap between two huge boulders.

“You found it,” Fíli murmured, gesturing toward it. Kíli raised an eyebrow, but Fíli wanted to save conversation for the dark. A spur of the mountain descended in front of them and would take at least an hour to skirt to reach Fíli’s waterfall, but that wasn’t necessary. They moved off the path onto boulders again as Fíli led the way toward the entrance to his little cave.

Fíli led them sideways through the gap and into the narrow, rock-strewn passage. The rush of water was a dull buzz that intensified to a roar as they approached. The path opened up to reveal the waterfall flowing past the cave’s mouth, the already dull sunlight filtered to a faint grey.

Kíli moved next to Fíli and watched the fall for a few moments. Fíli turned to him and raised his voice. “You found this soon after we were allowed to explore outside on our own.”

Kíli nodded. He remembered. “So much to explore we never came back.”

“I came back, Kee,” Fíli said. Kíli was almost colorless in the dark, his eyes wide and black and focused on Fíli’s face. “A couple years ago. I come when I need to get away from-” _Away from you._ “From how I feel.”

It was a little easier in the dark to keep his eyes on Kíli’s while talking about this. Not easy enough, but he forced himself to keep going. “I never meant to deceive you. I never spoke a lie to you. By the time I recognized what I was feeling, I knew you didn’t. Feel the same.”

Fíli took a breath, shifting his eyes to the water for a moment, and then back to his brother. “I just decided I had to set the feelings aside. I didn’t want to change what we have. Had.”

Kíli just kept watching him. It was too dark to read his eyes. Fíli wasn’t sure if he preferred this or if he wanted Kíli to respond. He said, “I came here when they - the feelings - when they got too close to the surface. It wasn’t often, Kíli, I promise.”

Fíli spread his hands in front of him. “That’s it. The only two things I’ve ever hidden from you.”

Kíli nodded again, then looked away, frowning. He rubbed his cheek. Fíli realized he was holding his breath after Kíli finally returned his focus to Fíli. “I believe you.”

Fíli exhaled. He hadn’t intended it, but the roar made this one of the worst places possible for conversation. _We should do this again,_ he thought wryly as they turned to leave.

 

* * *

 

The grey sky had added a light drizzle to the day’s general dreariness. It was so quiet now - birds and leaves hushed in the saturated air. Although he was glad they were talking, Kíli was impatient with the tidbits his brother offered. He let his boots slide down a slick rock face, wobbled as he almost lost his balance at the bottom, and looked back over his shoulder to watch Fíli follow with a smirk. Kíli rolled his eyes. Fíli’s bulk didn’t allow for lost balance, it wasn’t like he possessed some grand talent Kíli didn’t have.

“Your center of gravity is much lower than mine,” Kíli said pleasantly, earning him a rude gesture from Fíli.

“Elf,” Fíli muttered.

“Oh, that hurts.” Kíli grinned, because it didn’t - quite the opposite in fact - Fíli’s teasing was like the air he breathed, just something that had always been there.

The breeze cooled his forehead, and tried but couldn’t lift his damp hair. They jumped off a boulder together, landed on uncertain footing, hopped to a flatter spot. Kíli kept the pace quick. He wasn’t eager to end their time together, but he was restless and unsettled, body and mind, and needed to keep moving. There was still too much he didn’t know, that he wanted to understand, just out of reach. He gritted his teeth, exhaled. He slipped again; maybe he should slow down.

“Slow down, Kee,” Fíli admonished.

Or not. Kíli halted, setting his feet, and Fíli slammed into him, staggering back. Kíli whipped around and attempted a Fíli-worthy sneer. “Watch where you’re going,” Kíli taunted.

Fíli glared at him with narrowed eyes. It was his normal cold glare, yet for a moment Kíli imagined the layer of ice was thin, barely containing everything Fíli was keeping to himself. WIth the low clouds, the drizzle limiting visibility, the silence, it felt like the world had narrowed to the two of them and the rocks they stood on. Kíli glared back, eyebrows drawn together for full effect, willing his own eyes’ heat to melt Fíli’s chill. Fíli’s lips parted, and Kíli held his breath. Fíli shook his stubborn, frustrating head.

With an exasperated grunt and clenched fists, Kíli turned his back and moved away as quickly as he could, absent a death wish. Fíli huffed, and Kíli snorted in response. “Try to keep up.”

Kíli kept his eyes on his footing and made sure to step carefully, because there was no way he would slow down now even if he could settle down. He gave Fíli a little more time in silence, occupying his mind with Fíli’s clumping footfalls and even breathing. He thought he had always known where Fíli was, and usually what he was thinking, and that he had recognized each time his brother didn’t want to talk. Kíli supposed the revelation of the cave, unlike the hidden feelings and recent rejections, didn’t change that very much. They couldn’t be together every second. _Not that I would’ve minded_ , Kíli mused. Kíli realized Fíli’s presence gave him a kind of thoughtless confidence. “And that is enough thinking,” Kíli muttered.

“Fíli,” Kíli raised his voice without turning around. His stomach clenched a bit at the thought of what he was about to ask. He glanced back at an expressionless face - Fíli steeling himself. Kíli returned his attention to the path, shaking his head. He was going to learn what he needed in order to understand this, even if it meant pestering Fíli about it for the rest of their lives. “How did you know?”

Of course Fíli didn’t answer. Mahal, Kíli was tired of this. They would be in sight of the gate soon. He stopped and turned around. Fíli didn’t seem surprised - he stopped smoothly a few paces up the trail from Kíli with an unusually pensive expression. Kíli stepped closer, eyebrows raised.

Fíli held up a hand. “I’m not refusing to answer, Kíli.” Fíli dropped his arm, looked away and then back. “I’m- I’m trying to figure out what to say.”

“Just say something!” Kíli yelled, exasperated. “Since when do you have to watch what you say around me? Measure your words? This is ridiculous! I’m not some random dwarf you just see around now and then.”

Now they were both breathing too hard. Kíli voice softened. They were best friends. Hopefully still best friends. “It’s just me, Fee.”

Fíli rubbed the back of his neck, then focused his eyes on Kíli’s. Finally. “It’s not that simple. Not anymore,” Fíli said.

“It _is_!”

Fíli’s lips went flat. Kíli decided he’d pushed hard enough and gestured for Fíli to continue.

Fíli took a deep breath, exhaled. Muscles moved in his jaw. “It’s different now that you know. And you don’t,” he trailed off to a whisper. “Don’t feel the same.”  

“I’m still your brother. Just answer the question,” Kíli paused, considered. “Please.”

FIli sighed. “I don’t _know_. That you’re my One.” He bit his lip. “If that’s what you’re asking.”

Kíli just raised an eyebrow, watched Fíli work it out.

“I don’t know, all right? There was nothing sudden or obvious.” Fíli looked away and seemed to be watching water drip from pine needles. “I just started seeing you as... more. More than a brother. It was like a… a gradual... intensifying... of how I felt about you. Please don’t make me say more.” Fíli broke off and looked back at Kíli. He swallowed. “This is painful.”

Kíli gazed at his brother, the oh-so meticulous braids bedraggled by the rain, his obvious discomfort. That last was probably the hardest thing for Fíli to admit.

Kíli said the first thing that came to mind: “I do a better job braiding your hair than you do.”

It was just a statement of fact, but Kíli’s eyes widened as a faint pink rose on Fíli’s cheekbones. Shit, Master I’m-Always-In-Control was _blushing_. It was kind of adorable, and Kíli had a fleeting thought of how he could cause it again. He was so stunned he couldn’t decide whether to tease, taunt, or appease before Fíli was shouldering past him and toward the gate. “Don’t you dare say a word,” Fíli grumbled.

Kíli grinned as he followed. He supposed he’d tormented Fíli enough - for now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks so much for reading, and your comments/kudos/support! We love hearing what you think :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took so long, but we are hopefully back on track to finish this one up soon!
> 
> Be warned, this chapter is not safe for work!!

The cave hadn’t changed much since yesterday, Kíli wryly observed as he made his way inside. Not that he had expected to find much different. Not that he had expected to come here – a quick run that morning, just to clear his head, had unexpectedly turned into quite the journey. And, once Kíli had realized where he was heading… well, he couldn’t resist.

Kíli didn’t have time for this. He knew that. There was packing to do, final preparations to make…

He grinned and stepped inside the cave. It could wait.

Briefly, he wondered what Fíli would think if he ever found that Kíli had stopped by his formerly secret refuge on his own. _He’d probably call me an annoying younger brother. Say I’m always sticking my nose in his business._

Kíli wrinkled his nose. It wasn’t inaccurate, he knew, but he rather thought there was more to this particular excursion. He wasn’t snooping. There was nothing there for him to find. But Kíli had thought… he had thought…

_This is stupid._

Kíli pressed his hand against the cool cave wall and sighed. What was he hoping to accomplish here, really? He wouldn’t learn anything new about Fíli by coming here, by putting himself in Fíli’s shoes. It was a sorry substitute for actually seeking Fíli out, but… his brother needed time. And, difficult though it was, Kíli was trying to respect that.

That didn’t mean he was just going to sit around and wait for him, though. Somehow, this seemed like the next best thing.

The air was thick and warm, or at least it felt that way – Kíli’s body temperature was still elevated from his hike, and, though the cave had offered an initial reprieve from the day’s heat, it had only been temporary. Kíli pulled off his shirt and sat down beside the pool of water that filled much of the cave floor. The water was tempting, but he wasn’t in the mood for a swim just then.

Kíli sighed and threw his bunched up shirt onto the damp floor. He missed Fíli. That was really all there was to it, in the end. He missed Fíli, and he just wanted everything to go back to the way it had been. Before.

“But that’s not possible, is it?” Kíli muttered, rubbing at his temples. He was so tired of _thinking_ about this and feeling sad, frustrated, angry. And he hated how alone he felt; it wasn’t just that Fíli, the person he always went to, wouldn’t (... _couldn’t,_ Kíli corrected) talk to him just then. It was that everyone else seemed disappointed with him, like all of this was somehow his fault.

It was nice to be away from all of that, the roar of the waterfall the only sound. Kíli’s lips quirked, and he kicked a stray pebble with his boot. Perhaps he was beginning to see why Fíli had come all this way, after all.

He closed his eyes, trying to imagine Fíli in this place, wrestling with whatever he had been feeling for Kíli  – and, later, the hurt and rejection. Kíli grimaced and shook his head, as if doing so would banish the image from his mind. He didn’t like thinking about Fíli in that way, alone and hurting.

Instead, he redirected his line of thought. He imagined Fíli stepping into the cave, just as he had a moment before, stripping himself of his shirt, and then his boots and trousers, before stepping into the pool.

Warmth spread through Kíli as he imagined the scene, and not unpleasantly. He supposed he had always envied Fíli for his physique – he liked to watch his brother move, liked to imagine what it would be like to have that kind of strength, that broad build. Fíli was the ideal of dwarvish beauty and character. He could have anyone. Absolutely anyone. And Kíli _still_ couldn’t figure out what Fíli saw in _him –_ the ever-present younger brother. He had only been that, up until now.

Or so he’d thought.

An errant thought crossed Kíli’s mind then – the image of Fíli blushing the day before as they had made their way back to town. Kíli bit back a grin, remembering how nicely the pink in Fíli’s cheeks had complemented his pale skin and hair. It had been – cute. Kíli stopped fighting it and let the smile stretch across his face. Oh, Fíli would _kill_ him if he knew.

Kíli’s breath caught. He remembered what else Fíli had done yesterday, what he had said. Before they had come here. It was what they hadn’t talked about, what Kíli had wanted to talk about. _One_ of the things he had wanted to talk about. What Fíli had accidentally revealed: an off-hand confession that Kíli had latched onto.

“ _What is there to talk about? I want you, you don’t want me.”_

Kíli held his breath, just for a moment. 

_“I want you.”_

He still wanted to know what Fíli meant by that.

 _Don’t play stupid_. _You know what he meant._

But it didn’t seem real. Fíli had never given him any sign, the slightest _hint,_ that he felt that way. Thought about Kíli in that way. _Wanted_ him. He’d just gone off and said nothing, deciding for the both of them that it was impossible.

_Typical Fíli. Deciding he knows what’s best and never even giving me a say in the matter!_

Kíli snorted, even though he knew he was being unfair – Fíli was overprotective, but he wasn’t controlling. Really, as far as older brothers went, Fíli was good to him. Always had been.

It was a wonder that Kíli _wasn’t_ in love with him, actually.

Kíli sighed, removed his hand from the pool. “I would if I could,” he said, and when that wasn’t enough, he grabbed a stone and threw it in. The brief splash barely registered, and Kíli still felt awful.

He was starting to hate this place. He hated it for what Fíli had come here to deal with, hated it for what it was now forcing him to confront. He ground his fist into the damp soil and spat, “What did Fíli even come here to _do?”_ He glared at the cave’s dark walls. “There’s nothing here! Did he just come here to– to _want_ me?”

He let out a bark of laughter, but it caught in his throat. It was a thought that had been dancing around at the edges of his mind for days, but only now seemed appropriate to think on.

Even if it wasn’t very appropriate at all.

Kíli’s face grew warm. He ran his damp hand along the leg of his trousers, resting it near the crease between his upper thigh and groin.

“ _Did_ he ever…?” Kíli whispered, glancing around. “Here?”

A part of Kíli knew that Fíli never had – not here, at least – because Fíli would have never brought him here if it were just his preferred spot for a clandestine wank. But the thought had now entered Kíli’s mind, and he closed his eyes. He found himself trying to imagine it. Trying to imagine how Fíli would do it; how he’d sound, the faces he’d make.

What Fíli would think about, as he did it. A shiver raced down Kíli’s spine.

“He _wants_ me,” Kíli breathed, and the thought was not unpleasing. Without quite realizing what he was doing, he reached inside his trousers and touched himself. “He wants _me.”_

Why did that still seem impossible? Because he wanted it to be?

Or… the opposite?

Kíli squeezed his eyes shut tighter. He saw Fíli blushing again in his mind’s eye, only now he began to imagine a different context – their bedroom, _his_ bed, Fíli nude and flushed and staring at him with – not these painful looks from days past, but – pleasure. _Need._

Ways that Fíli had never looked at him before.

It turned out that Kíli’s cock liked that imagery. So did Kíli. With an impatient grunt, he yanked open the ties of his trousers and let his cock free. He wondered if Fíli had ever imagined him doing something like this. With a start, Kíli realized that he hoped he had.

With a low grunt, Kíli began to move his hand in earnest, his mouth dropping open as thoughts of his brother began to coalesce in his head. He imagined it was Fíli’s hand on him, his breath against his neck, that soothing tenor of his in his ear, encouraging him. Kíli gasped, and with a deliberate effort, loosened his grip. He realized that he was startlingly close to coming already, but he didn’t want this over with. Not yet.

How _did_ Fíli fuck? Kíli couldn’t help but wonder, now. Did he treat his lovers gently, or did he take them hard and rough? Did he remain strong and silent even as he spilled his pleasure, or did he ever allow himself to come completely undone? Kíli couldn’t decide; there were so many sides to his brother, certain faces that he showed only to certain dwarves.

Kíli knew the Fíli behind the mask – or thought he knew, at least. But now he realized there was one side of Fíli that he had never seen, and the inklings of a new challenge began to form in Kíli’s mind. He realized that he wanted to find out. He wanted to know this about his brother. His _brother._

If anything, that only made Kíli’s hand move faster. He wouldn’t be long now. With a choked moan, Kíli brought his hand to his mouth and sucked on his index finger and thumb. He reached under his shirt and teased a nipple, giving it a hard pinch, and imagined Fíli’s teeth there, his tongue.

Kíli came. The fantasy ended. Kíli gasped for breath, his chest still heaving, and then the regret started to trickle in.

He groaned, letting his head tip back against the cave wall with a dull thunk _._ “What is _wrong_ with me,” he muttered, before leaning forward to stick his hand in the water to clean it. “Fíli was right to keep this place a secret. He tells me about it, and what do I do? _This.”_ He removed his hand from the pool and wiped it on the leg of his trousers. _“Great_ job, Kíli.”

He collected his shirt and stood up, pulling it back over his head in a rushed movement before hastily retying his trousers. He didn’t care how disheveled he must have looked. He had to get out of here. Now.

He couldn’t believe he had done this. He couldn’t believe he had _liked_ it. And, worst of all, he couldn’t believe that he was now considering… _actually_ considering…

_Stop this. We can’t._

And yet, it didn’t seem as impossible as it once had.

 

* * *

 

Kíli was not quite naive enough to think that sex could solve all problems – he knew there was still the matter of Fíli’s feelings to consider – but it was a start. _Thought_ it could be a start. But it nevertheless seemed they were closer to solving this mess than he had first imagined, and Kíli couldn’t help but feel optimistic.

At the same time, Kíli was nothing if not stubborn. He found himself thinking back to the throng that had greeted him when he had first woken from the curse, the gossip-mongering that had dogged him ever since. A part of Kíli really didn’t want to see them proven right.

On the other hand (and, more specifically, his right)... that had been a _really_ good wank. Kíli bit back a grin. It had been, hm, a _while_ since he had last had a steady bed partner. And he could do a lot worse than Fíli. _Had_ done a lot worse than Fíli, in fact. Numerous times. It would be so _easy…_

...if Fíli wasn’t in love with him.

And that, if Kíli were being honest, was what scared him more than anything.

Kíli was young, but he had ample experience – perhaps more than his brother. He had fallen hard and fast for a number of dwarves – and even a few men, when he happened to meet one who appealed and paid him any mind. Yes, Kíli knew what love was, and he knew it wasn’t limited to just one, and he knew that it never lasted.

And he had never felt that way about Fíli. Fíli, who was constant, who was always there. Fíli, who wasn’t supposed to be like the others, the ones who shared his bed for a fortnight before asking for audiences with Thorin, or for other favors. Nor like the men who disappeared before morning, their shorter lives seemingly urging them to move on before Kíli was ready. Those were the ones whom Kíli had learned to drive away first, not from fear of what they wanted from him, but of the rejection.

They didn’t need that, he and Fíli.

Kíli believed in forging his own destiny. He believed that his decisions had meaning. And he would never, _ever_ choose this for him and Fíli. What he and Fíli had was far better than some dumb fairy tale – only, now Fíli had gone and mucked it all up. Or he had, by not wanting whatever it was that Fíli wanted from him.

It occurred to Kíli, then, that he still didn’t know what Fíli wanted from him.

Sex wasn’t a problem. Kíli smiled ruefully, rubbing at his sore nipple with his palm through his shirt. No, he wouldn’t mind it. It would probably be fun. But he didn’t know how they could without it hurting, without causing Fíli even more pain. Because One True love was a fantasy. It wasn’t real.

But the thought was there now. Him and Fíli. Pressed up against each other. Limbs entwined, their breath mingling. Kíli reached out, as if he could run his hands through Fíli’s hair, unplait every painstakingly placed braid. He wanted to. He _wanted_ to.

He loved Fíli. He really, truly did. With all his heart. But he always had. And that wasn’t the stuff of fairy tales. Real life was harsher.

Kíli tried to convince himself of that. But his heart, as always, wouldn’t listen. Hope unfurled in his chest, his stomach flipping in the excited way that it always did at the start of something new. Maybe… _maybe…_

“Nephew.”

Kíli started, the unexpected – yet familiar – deep voice jolting him back to earth again. He hadn’t even noticed Thorin approaching him.

“Good morning,” Kíli began – not too guiltily, he hoped. Whether he felt that way because Thorin had caught him shirking his responsibilities, or because of what he had just done in the cave, he couldn’t say.

But if Thorin had any inkling of either transgression, he made no show of it. He merely nodded toward Kíli and said, “Walk with me.”

Kíli blinked. Thorin rarely asked for his company like this – which meant that whatever he wanted to say was bound to be very good, or very bad.

“How are you?” Thorin began, which was probably the last thing Kíli had expected to hear. “After everything that has happened...”

“I am fine. In body,” Kíli amended, at Thorin’s skeptical look.

“And in mind?”

“Less… fine.” Kíli sighed, readjusted the shirt he had so hastily thrown on. “I’m… troubled. I don’t think I can give Fíli what he wants. But he also won’t tell me what he _does_ want.”

Thorin was silent for a long moment, and Kíli tried not to fidget too obviously. He was sure that Thorin wasn’t stretching this out just to get to him, but that’s what it felt like. “I’m glad it troubles you,” Thorin finally said, “and I’m glad of your honesty. You must consider your own feelings, in addition to his. He will talk to you again, in time.”

“I don’t like hurting him,” Kíli whispered.

“He is not the first dwarf to have known heartbreak. He will recover.”

“But will _we_ recover?” Kíli gasped out, barely restraining himself from tugging on Thorin’s sleeve. “Fíli and I, we… we’re more than brothers. He’s my best friend. I can’t lose that, Uncle. I feel like I already have.”

Thorin stopped walking for a moment, a shadow crossing his face. But it was gone in an instant. He said, “Things will change for the both of you, no matter what you decide. But he will always be your brother. And he will always care for you.” He started walking again, motioning for Kíli to follow. “I’m afraid my expertise in these matters is limited.”

It was strange to think about, though Kíli knew on some level that it must be true. Thorin had always seemed so capable – which made it practically unimaginable that he would not have a solution for them, even in this. “Do you believe in One True Love?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Yes,” Thorin said softly, surprising Kíli once more, “although I’ve never known it.”

Kíli swallowed uncomfortably. “So then you think I ought to...”

“No. I do not.” Thorin turned then, and placed a hand on Kíli’s shoulder. “You must do whatever is right for _you_. Your brother will understand.”

Kíli opened his mouth, but then Thorin continued, “You must also ignore everyone else. No one can tell you what to do, Kíli. Not for this.”

Kíli felt himself scowl. “Why does everyone care so much?”

“Because they care about you.” At that, Thorin smiled. “Both of you. And they want to see you happy.”

“We _were_ happy,” Kíli grumbled. “Before.”

“And perhaps therein lies the confusion.” Thorin gently squeezed Kíli’s shoulder. “You and Fíli always acted like Ones before. Closer than anyone. It’s a bit of a shock that it isn’t so, but I assure you, we will all get used to the idea eventually.”

And Kíli, ever the contrarian, suddenly realized he didn’t like the sound of that either – their people getting _used_ to the idea that Fíli and Kíli weren’t meant to be. Together.

The main gates were in sight now, and Kíli thanked his uncle for the advice before they went their separate ways. Their talk had made one thing clear: his suspicions were correct, and he and Fíli could never go back to the way they had been. That path was closed to them.

Thorin was right about one other thing, as well: Kíli could not become preoccupied with what the others were saying. He had always struggled with that, but somehow he would have to tune the gossip out. It could have no bearing on whatever he decided, in the end.

That left just Fíli for him to concern himself with. Kíli stroked his palm against his arm, the image he had conjured of himself tangled up with Fíli still fresh in his memory. That was not at all disagreeable.

Kíli may not believe in One True Love, but that hardly seemed to matter, now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last! A light at the end of the tunnel :)
> 
> ...or perhaps this is just the eye of the storm xD Mwahahaha~


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking forward to the comments on this one! :P

Fíli woke and felt like he was replaying the morning before. Sinking feeling, followed by the tremor of excitement, replaced by regret and then desire. He pressed his head back and closed his eyes. Things were better with Kíli every day, and dinner was more natural last night. They had discussed their final preparations for the journey and what they would encounter on the way, Amad’s pride and hope mostly outweighing her sorrow. 

Yet it all still felt wrong. It was him, his unwelcome secret - former secret - that he couldn’t lock back up - not from Kíli, and not from himself. He repeated yesterday’s frustrated groan and pushed himself out of his warm bed, no longer able to luxuriate in sleeping in. 

His fingers fumbled with his hair. For a moment, he considered leaving it undone, just letting Kíli deal with it if his brother was going to criticize it anyway. The part of him that longed for Kíli’s touch relished that idea, but he had enough pride left to shut it down. He braided his hair. 

Amad, alone in the common room, looked up at him without expression as he descended the stairs. She nodded and turned toward the kitchen.

“You don’t have to cook for me,” he said.

“Already done,” she responded without turning around.

He didn’t know how he felt about Kíli being gone and wondered where he was. Maybe he just had to get used to uncertainty. That didn’t sit well.

“Kíli went for a run,” his mother’s voice sounded from the kitchen with the clatter of ceramic. Because he was completely transparent now. He rolled his eyes and sat down at the table.

“Last time to the forge today?” Dís asked as she placed a plate of cottage pie and eggs in front of Fíli and then settled into the chair across from him. 

Fíli nodded as he inhaled the enticing aroma of Dís’s meal for one of the last times in months. Months. He had always been too excited to really consider that, but a glimmer of empathy with his mother struck him as he took a bite.

He looked up to see her dark eyes studying his face. They didn’t hold the pity he had recently feared. 

“He will come around,” she said, simply without preamble.

Fíli’s eyes widened, but he just kept eating. “This is delicious,” he said between bites.

Dís smiled and folded her hands in front of her on the table. “I am going to miss the two of you inhaling my cooking.”

Fíli grinned in return, resting his fork on the plate for a moment. “I’m going to miss inhaling it.” 

Dís was silent for a few moments, her eyes still on Fíli. She took a breath. “Even if he doesn’t return your feelings - and I still think he will - he won’t turn away from you.”

Fíli shook his head and focused on finishing his meal before the topic soured his stomach. He did look at his mother, though, at the lines around her eyes that had expressed deep grief and enduring joy. Still no pity. He respected her calm, straightforward tone. He wished she was speaking of anything else.

“Your bond is especially strong,” she said. 

And she would know, Fíli acknowledged to himself. She and her brothers were always close. He swallowed and almost responded before a familiar sinking feeling reminded him that his feelings for Kíli went beyond “close”. He blinked and set his fork on the table, kept unfocused eyes on it.

“Fíli, look at me.” Gentle but firm. He turned his eyes toward her.

“No one is disgusted.”

Fíli suppressed a groan. He hated being read so easily. He made himself look at her eyes. No pity, no disgust. _All right, speak._ “How long have you suspected?”

She glanced down and then back up with a rueful smile. “Your brother asked me that with a lot more venom.”

“Yeah, I’d be one to talk,” Fíli said. “Besides, I’m glad you kept it to yourself.”

“I should’ve continued to keep it to myself, but I was just so relieved, so happy, when Kíli woke up.” Dís looked at her hands. “I believed. No. I _believe_.” She looked at Fíli as her eyes flashed. “I know you two don’t, but I do.”

Fíli shrugged. He didn’t know what to believe. “But how long?”

“Years. It feels like I always just knew,” she said, shrugging in turn. “It wasn’t anything you did.”

Well, that was something anyway. “And you’re really not disgusted?” he made himself ask. “Thorin is not disgusted?” His stomach twisted; he didn’t want to consider what Kíli thought.

“No,” she said, brooking no argument. “No one who matters will be disgusted. A One is a gift, and it matters not who it is.” 

Fíli settled his utensils on his plate and picked it up. Relief and disbelief fought for dominance. He thought it mattered. “I’m glad. But Kíli doesn’t share- Doesn’t return-” He sought for words as he stood up. “Kíli doesn’t feel the same.”

“Give him time,” she said, eyes on his. She stood and moved toward him, took the plate from his hands.

“I can take care of that,” he said, for something to say.

She shook her head, lips quirking. “Get going.”

He kissed her cheek, but couldn’t meet her eyes again. He didn’t - couldn’t - believe that Kíli would “come around”. He headed for the door. He couldn’t get a rein on his feelings, but hope was another matter. There was no way that would surface again.

 

* * *

 

Fíli ended up back in the dormant forge after several supply runs. They were almost finished collecting their share of the company’s supplies, but for the hunting arrows Kíli would be picking up from a fletcher soon.

Fíli lit a fire in the hearth to warm up the cold, grey room. He didn’t need much of a fire to heat the pine resin, but he wanted some noise, too. He pulled a small fighting knife from a stone shelf nearby, as well as a pair of skinning knives he had made for Kíli and himself for the journey. He examined the antler handles on the pair as he moved to the table by the far wall. They had dried over several weeks and were securely fixed to the tang. He set them on the table and retrieved iron wire and a chisel from the anteroom.

Enforcing the handles’ hold on the knives wasn’t strictly necessary, but Fíli liked the look of a metal transition to the blade. He began to work on the dagger, focusing on the braid of the wire. He let his thoughts swirl in the background without acknowledging or fighting them. 

Kíli finally came in, dropping a bag on the floor with a thud, while Fíli was re-warming the pitch. “It smells like a pine tree in here,” Kíli said as he strode into the room.

“Got everything?” Fíli asked, looking up.

“Done,” Kíli said as he fell into a chair. “Ooh, what is this?” he asked as he picked up a knife.

“I made one for you,” Fíli said, bringing the resin to the table. “Antlers from one of your deer.”

Kíli turned a knife over in his palm, hefted it. “Nice. Thank you,” he murmured, keeping his eyes down as he slid into the other chair.

Fíli nodded. “Wire?”

Kíli nodded in return, finally looking at Fíli with a strange expression on his face. Fíli expected regret or discomfort, but that’s not quite what he saw. He struck Fíli as shy or pensive, neither an emotion commonly associated with Kíli. Fíli couldn’t put his finger on it. With a shake of his head, Kíli grabbed a spool of wire, dipped a finger in the resin, and began rubbing it over the top of the handle. 

Fíli considered Kíli for another moment before dipping a finger in the pitch. “I don't want your sympathy,” Fíli said, eyes on his knife. “And I don't need it.”

Kíli snorted. “Good. You don't have it.”

Fíli’s head snapped up and met a glare before Kíli returned his attention to the knife. _Well, good. I guess. “_ Good.” Fíli looked back down and twisted wire around the top of the handle. 

“I don't feel sorry for you, but that doesn't mean I like seeing you suffer,” Kíli said. Fíli glanced at Kíli as he paused, tilting his head. “No, that's not true. Your ego can do with some suffering. I just don't like being the cause of it.” 

Another pause, and then Kíli smirked. “In this case.”

Fíli shook his head. “Thanks,” he snorted. He was sulking, and it was getting old. But he figured he deserved a turn; usually Kíli was the dramatic one. 

They focused on their work, and for a little while the only sound was the crackling of the fire. Fíli finished his last twist over the bottom of the blade and cut the wire, then watched Kíli’s hands as he finished his binding. Fíli wanted to take Kíli’s hand, see if the callouses matched his own, kiss a- He closed his eyes. _No_.

Of course Kíli noticed. “Fee,” his voice was soft, almost hesitant. “Do you believe in a One True Love now?”

Fíli opened his eyes and looked down at his knife, turned it over. He shook his head. “No.”

Kíli sighed, Fíli thought in relief. That shouldn't have hurt, and he didn't know why it did, but it did. “I am still the same person as before,” Fíli said, making himself look up and meet Kíli’s eyes. “I told you I haven't hidden anything else.”

“I know,” Kíli said, the relief still there, with a hint of frustration and the emotion Fili still couldn’t place. Kíli cut his wire. “I'm just trying to understand. Do you think Ones are real now?”

Fíli laughed without humor. “I did for about half a second after you woke up. Now...” He shrugged as he stood up, wiped his hands on a rag, and began clearing the table.

“Well, I did wake up,” Kíli mused, pushing leftover wire toward Fíli’s side of the table. “If the curse was real, and if the spell really had more power than slumber... I guess there had to be something behind it.”

Now Kíli shrugged, eyes unfocused. “But I didn’t feel any different.”

Fíli kept moving through that particular jab to his gut, putting the tools away, wiping the table, back to avoiding Kíli’s eyes so his brother wouldn't see the disappointment in his own. “And those are two big ‘if’s’,” Fíli said. “Something happened, but it doesn't seem like it was as portentous as your stag made it out to be.”

Now Kíli snorted. “My stag.” He set his finished knife next to Fíli’s and stood up. “We wanted choice, Fee. Free will. I still want that.”

Fíli had finished clearing the table, and Kíli was right in front of him. Fíli pursed his lips, took a breath and looked at his brother. He would just have to make this work, somehow, despite his feelings being out in the open. Surely he wouldn't feel so raw once they were on the road. Hopefully. “I understand. I do, too.” 

“Amad and a lot of others believe in it,” Kíli said.

“Well, they’re not us. I think we still have choice.” Fíli took another deep breath.  “You still have it.”

Fíli realized how tense Kíli had been when his shoulders dropped. Kíli exhaled with a small smile. The naked relief on his face made him look so young. 

“Mahal, Kíli, it's not like anyone has a lot of success forcing you into things.”

“You do.”

Fíli rolled his shoulders and shook his head. He looked around the quiet room for anything else that needed tidying. They had taken care of most everything with Thorin, though, before. Kíli watched him with a more familiar expression - he wanted something and was working out how to ask.

“I don't mean ‘force’ me,” Kíli said. “Influence, I guess.”

Fíli shrugged. “All right. Good.” He was about done with talking, it was just sharpening the pain in his chest. It was clear that Kíli wasn't ready, though. “Spit it out,” Fíli said.

Instead of responding, Kíli reached out a hand. Fíli froze, eyes on Kíli’s face. Kíli gently pulled a braid toward him and then stepped forward, catching it in his other hand. “Let me fix this,” he said, attention focused on Fíli's hair. 

Fíli nodded dumbly, too distracted to be offended that Kíli insulted his braiding skills again. They hadn't been this close since Kíli had awakened from the curse. Kíli slid off a bead and handed it to Fíli without looking at him, expecting that he would take it. And he did, watching the graze of Kíli's fingertips on his palm. He kept his eyes down for a moment as Kíli untwisted the braid. The calming tug on his scalp helped balance the ache of feeling Kíli’s breath on his face, watching the rise and fall of Kíli's chest.

Kíli held a hand out, and Fíli dropped the bead. He didn't touch Kíli's palm. Kíli repeated the movements on two more braids. On the fourth, he visibly inhaled. “You know I love you.”

Fíli’s breath hitched. _No, not like that,_ he reminded himself. “Still?” Fíli muttered.

“Of course, you idiot.” 

Fíli shook his head, as much as he could with Kíli's hands in his hair. “But... but you think it’s _wrong_ ,” Fíli managed to say. “Are you disgusted?”

“No,” Kíli said with surprising heat. “I don't think it's wrong. How you feel.” He glanced at Fíli. “Or disgusting.”

_No?_ Fíli felt like his eyebrows were trying to climb off his head. He tried to still his face, calm his breath. 

“Just don't hide something like that from me again,” Kíli said with a grimace and a painful tug on Fíli’s hair.

Fíli nodded, eyes wide. Somehow Kíli kept surprising him. Which was just one of the reasons why he was in love with him.

Kíli finished and stepped back, examining his work. “Better.” He nodded and then looked away, blushing as he took a deep breath. “Not bad - your feelings. Just. Surprising. Unexpected.”

It sounded like Kíli was rubbing it in, but Fíli knew he was just babbling. Kíli ran a hand through his hair before turning back to Fíli. “I’m hurting you to say this, but I don’t think I would’ve thought to kiss you if the situation had been reversed.”

Fíli nodded. He already knew that, and it did hurt, but it was tempered by the fact that Kíli was working up to something else. “It’s all right.”

Kíli examined Fíli’s face, probably looking for the lie. He wouldn’t find it. Fíli didn’t feel all right, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t accept Kíli’s feelings. And Kíli wasn't horrified after all. That was something. They could still be friends.

They looked at each other for a long aching moment, so long it seemed Kíli had decided not to share whatever was on his mind after all. Kili glanced away, eyes scanning the room. He moved to clear the few remaining tools from the shelves. Fíli pursed his lips and then, following his brother’s lead, extinguished the fire. Fíli tried to find something else to do, but nothing was left. 

“This is it,” Fíli exhaled. If Thorin’s quest was a success, they wouldn’t be back. It was hard to fathom. He grabbed the new knives, handing Kíli’s to him and slipping his own into his shirt. He looked up to find Kíli’s eyes on him. 

“I want to ask you something,” Kíli said, eyes sliding across Fíli’s face before looking away again.

Fíli waited, still as a hunter, eyes soft on Kíli’s face as his brother struggled with his words or his courage or both. Fíli forced himself to ignore the churn in his gut, to unclench his jaw. “Anything, Kee, you know that.”

Kíli shuffled his feet, eyes still restless. “I want to try something.” He took another deep breath and finally focused on Fíli. “Can we. You know. I’m not sure how I feel. I can’t promise anything. But I want to try. Uh, something. With you.”

Fíli tried to halt the widening of his eyes, but he couldn’t help it. Again he firmly squashed hope. This was something, but it wasn’t going to be everything. He looked down, pressing his eyes closed.

“Can we try sex?” Kíli asked in a rush.

Fíli’s head popped back up of its own accord, his body flooding with warmth. His eyes blurred and his fingertips tingled, aching to touch. Lifting his chin, he tried to get control of his breath, his pulse. He never thought Kíli would want this. Hadn’t allowed himself to think that Kíli _could_ want this. Despite his surprise, the half of him that wanted it was very loud, demanding satisfaction. 

“No,” he ground out, with effort.

“No?” Kíli whispered. His head dropped, shoulders slumped. When he looked up his face was flushed. “But I thought you wanted…” 

Fíli hadn’t been answering Kíli’s question, and oh yes, he wanted. His mouth was dry, breath continuing to quicken. Yet he _knew_ it was the correct answer. He bit his lip. He wanted all of Kíli, and he didn’t want to share him. But he wanted… A heavy sigh halted Fíli’s swirling thoughts and brought his attention back to his brother, his frown, and his beautiful, ridiculous glare. 

Fíli growled in frustration. “I do. Want you,” he made himself say. 

“Bad.” That came out of nowhere. Fíli’s own voice sounded far away to his ears as he found himself fighting - again - for control of his emotions. He slammed his fist into his hand, willing himself to rationality. “But I want _all_ of you.”

Fíli turned away from his brother before he gave in to what his body was begging for. Before he hoped for more than what Kíli offered. He shouldered his bag and opened the door. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back!
> 
> Be warned that this chapter is slightly nsfw. That warning will probably apply for all remaining chapters as well. Sorry for any inconvenience :)

He had known better. He had known better, and he’d done it anyway.

“Story of my life,” Kíli muttered, slamming a wardrobe drawer closed. “Why’d I do it?”

 _Because I thought he’d say yes. Because I_ wanted _him to say yes._

“Because I’m an idiot,” he growled, running his hands through his hair. But he knew that feeling sorry for himself wasn’t going to solve anything; he couldn’t take the question back. Deciding that a new strategy was in order – or at the very least, a distraction – Kíli grabbed a change of clothes and stomped off toward the royal baths.

It was hard not to be angry with himself, though. He and Fíli had been so close to being back to normal – or as close to normal as they could be, now. They had been talking. They had been making progress toward understanding each other. It had seemed like they were _finally_ about to bridge the gap that had emerged between them. But now…

Now, they weren’t. And Kíli only had himself to blame.

It was a difficult fact to acknowledge – that they were back to where they had been, those first days after Fíli had kissed him. That it was his fault for the awkwardness that had reemerged between them, for Fíli’s reluctance to talk. But, this time, Kíli was avoiding Fíli just as much.

The truth was, it was difficult to be near his brother now. Even ignoring the guilt of not grasping the full force of his brother’s feelings, it was almost painful to look at Fíli, to be reminded of what they did have in common now – of what they both wanted and yet couldn’t have. _Is this how Fíli has felt all this time?_ Kíli wondered to himself. _Every time he’s looked at me?_

It was a disquieting thought. Kíli couldn’t imagine how his brother could have lived that way for so long, silently enduring feelings he couldn’t – or wouldn’t – act on. Fíli had always been more stoic than Kíli, to say the least, but how he had locked away something so big was beyond Kíli.

Fíli was either the strongest dwarf he knew, or the most foolish.

Kíli sighed and began to undress, leaving his clothes in a messy pile beside a stone bench. It wasn’t often that Kíli bothered with the royal baths – a collection of quiet, secluded hot springs near their family quarters. While they were convenient to use in the morning if he happened to be running late, Kíli much preferred the public baths that were open to all dwarves. They had a livelier, more boisterous energy, and were used just as much for socializing as they were for bathing. But Kíli was in a rare mood for solitude just then.

The one downside of the royal baths, of course, was that the dwarf he most wanted to avoid was one of the few who also had access to them.

It was just as Kíli was stepping out of the pool, squeezing water from his hair, that he heard someone enter the chamber. He looked up with a start, though he knew who it had to be.

Two weeks ago, Kíli wouldn’t have bothered to cover himself, but now he did, snatching a linen from a nearby shelf and holding it in front of him. Time seemed to stop as his gaze locked with his brother’s.

Fíli froze, taking in the scene before him, then took a step back. “Sorry, I… I didn’t expect–” He swallowed, seemed to struggle with what to say – but his gaze never wavered.  “I should have knocked...”

“Why? You never have before.” Kíli raised his chin in a silent challenge, feeling slightly irritated – not for the interruption, but Fíli’s attitude. He had expected that Fíli would have left by now, but he just stood in the doorway, still as stone – save for the intensity of his gaze, which burned too brightly for any statue. That, Kíli didn’t mind, but the indecision – the fact that Fíli wanted him, but wouldn’t act – _that_ was what frustrated him.

At the same time, the look in Fíli’s eyes was having its own effect on Kíli. He wasn’t used to being stared at in such a way, to being looked at with such longing – nor had he ever seen such naked want in Fíli’s eyes before. It was strange, but at the same time thrilling, and Kíli felt his heart rate increase. He reminded himself to breathe. And he stared back.

And so he saw how his brother’s eyes raked over him, just for a second, before Fíli finally averted his gaze. Kíli narrowed his eyes, another flash of irritation coursing through him – he wanted Fíli’s eyes back on him. He wanted Fíli to reach out for him. Touch him.

Slowly, Kíli let the towel drop.

“Fíli,” he said.

Fíli’s eyes snapped back up. Kíli was not disappointed by his brother’s reaction, how his cheeks flushed and his lips parted as he took in the sight of Kíli, naked and fully exposed. Kíli saw how Fíli’s hand trembled, as if he wanted to reach forward and touch, to take what was now being offered.

“You tease,” Fíli hissed.

“But you want me,” Kíli said, his voice coming out a low rumble. “I know you do.” He could feel himself starting to react, and he knew that Fíli would notice – _had_ noticed – and was probably in a similar state. Kíli bit his lip as he thought about that, of opening Fíli’s trousers and wrapping a hand around his cock, of getting down on his knees and taking Fíli in his mouth to finish the job. “I want it, too,” he groaned, a bit needier than he had intended. “So have me. I’m _right_ here–”

“Stop,” Fíli whispered, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth. “Don’t do this, Kíli. Please.”

The words came almost like a physical blow. Kíli looked down, guilt immediately pooling in his gut. Despite Fíli’s obvious desire, somehow Kíli was continuing to push Fíli too far.  He stooped to retrieve his towel so he could cover himself again, but it no longer mattered; Fíli was gone.

Kíli felt his chin quiver, and he blinked the wetness from his eyes; he would not wallow in self-pity. He just couldn’t help but wonder if he should stop trying to mend things between the two of them, when everything he did lately seemed like the wrong thing.

 

* * *

 

Kíli was sulking in their shared bedroom, staring at a pile of clothes that he couldn’t bring himself to deal with, when Fíli found him again. “I’d like to talk,” he said to him, just a bit too stiffly.

Kíli bit the inside of his cheek. “I’m trying to give you space,” he finally mumbled, eyes still down. “I thought that was what you wanted.”

“Of course it isn’t.” Fíli swallowed uneasily, seemed to struggle with what to say next. Then: “Kíli, why...”

Kíli didn’t need to hear the rest; he already knew what Fíli would ask. “Because I wanted to,” he said heatedly as he felt his cheeks flush, finally looking up. “ _Want_ to.”

At Fíli’s raised eyebrows, Kíli added, “No, I had never thought about you that way before, but…” He shrugged. “Well. I am now.”

Fíli stared at him. “And you… _want_ to.” His brother’s face gave no sign of what he might have been thinking, but the tightness in his voice betrayed his skepticism, his suppressed longing.

“Yeah,” Kíli murmured, his voice gruff. Then he smiled. “Yeah, I do.”

Fíli swore, looking away. He was making an admirable show of composure, but Kíli saw how Fíli’s hands clenched, the faint pink in his cheeks, the bobbing of his throat as he swallowed.

“You told me I still had a choice,” Kíli said quietly. “And I’ve made one.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to agree to it,” Fíli snapped, his voice uncharacteristically belligerent.

Kíli rolled his eyes, undaunted. “I know that. Obviously.” But then he looked away, heart racing, until finally, hesitatingly, he asked the one question that had been plaguing him all day.

“But why… won’t you? I thought you’d want this.”

Fíli’s nostrils flared. “Why do you _think?”_

“But maybe this could be the start of something!” Kíli threw his hands up, then took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. “What do you even like about me?” he asked, his voice coming out as a weary sigh. “I keep messing up. We aren’t talking again, you don’t want to fuck–”

“I do want to,” Fíli cut in, eyes wide. “I do.”

“But you won’t,” Kíli growled. “Why?”

Fíli glanced down, but only for a moment. “I already told you,” he said, his voice quiet in its intensity. “This is about more than just sex for me.”

Fíli swallowed, closed his fist, opened it again. His gaze did not leave Kíli’s. “Are you in love with me?” he demanded.

“No, I–” Kíli cut himself off and closed his eyes. He couldn’t mess this one up; he knew that whatever he said now had the possibility of hurting Fíli, and that was the last thing he wanted – though he knew that he already had, and more than once. But he also had to be true to himself, and he knew that it would be far more hurtful to tell Fíli a lie.

“I don’t know,” Kíli finally whispered. “I don’t. But I’m trying. I’m being honest with you. I don’t know how I feel.” He spread out his hands in front of him and opened his eyes. “I love you, but it’s the same as before.” He smiled. “You’re my brother.”

Fíli wasn’t smiling. “And you want to _fuck?”_

“Well, sure.” Kíli felt his smile take a sardonic turn, and he shrugged. “I’ve fucked on less before.”

Fíli grimaced. “I don’t want to hear that.”

“Then what _do_ you want to hear?” Kíli demanded. “That I’m a virgin? That I pledge my undying love to you until our final days?”

Fíli snorted. "'No' to the first. 'Maybe' to the second.” He exhaled in a loud rush, shaking his head. “No. That’s not why I’m here.” He looked Kíli in the eye. “I came here to say something to you."

Kíli held his breath, and he waited.

“You… surprised me earlier,” Fíli began, looking down as he fiddled with one of his shirtsleeves. “But now I’ve… decided on something.”

Several excruciating seconds ticked by. “And?” Kíli finally asked, when it seemed like Fíli might not continue.

“We can try sex.” Fíli exhaled in a rush, rubbing at the back of his neck. “If you still want to.” His lips quirked upwards as he finally caught Kíli’s eye again. “No pledge of undying love required. Promise.”

Kíli cringed, his guilt over the self-deprecating smile on Fíli’s face somewhat diminishing his initial excitement.

But the thought quickly fled his mind as Fíli kept talking. “I keep thinking about it,” he admitted, as if he couldn’t stop the words from spilling out now that he had started. His eyes were blazing again, just as they had in the baths earlier, and Kíli felt a fluttering in his chest as Fíli reached forward to grab his hand. “I can’t _stop_ thinking about it,” Fíli said, voice lower than Kíli had ever heard it. “If you still want to–”

“I do,” Kíli said quickly, his entire body tingling.

Fíli squeezed his hand tightly, nodding his head. “Good,” he said, loosening his grip. “Good. Then I really… _really_ want to. Too.” It was not the most eloquent thing that Fíli had ever said, but that didn’t seem to matter to either of them just then.

"When?" Kíli asked over the thundering of his heartbeat. He pulled Fíli closer. “Tonight?”

Fíli frowned. “With Amad in bed downstairs?”

“Of course not,” Kíli said, rolling his eyes – his brother was far too fastidious for his own good sometimes. “We can meet elsewhere – the Tipsy Miner Inn, say? They rent rooms by the hour.”

“I _hate_ that you know that,” Fíli grumbled with an eyeroll of his own.

Kíli just snorted, allowing Fíli a moment of rare petulance. Then he leaned his head in close. “Like you've never made use of such rooms before,” he whispered, his lips brushing against his brother’s ear.

Kíli pulled back just in time to see Fíli open his mouth to retort, before closing it again. “Fair enough,” Fíli finally muttered with a contrite quirk of his lips. “The Blue Diamond, then? Nicer rooms.”

The Blue Diamond. Only the nicest inn on their side of the mountain, which was typical Fíli, really. Kíli should have known. He raised an eyebrow, stifling a grin. “More coin. You paying?”

Fíli laughed at that, and then so did Kíli, and for a moment, it was like nothing had ever changed between them, their banter as familiar as anything. And then Fíli was reaching forward with his free hand to brush a strand of Kíli’s hair out of his face, and just like that, the spell was broken: Kíli was reminded of what had brought them here, and that they were still holding hands – and that this was new, though it didn’t feel strange.

“Sure, I can pay for a room,” Fíli said, his eyes soft. “I’d say you’re worth the expense.”

Kíli let out a breath, a pleasant warmth radiating through his chest.

“I wouldn’t fuck anyone who wasn’t,” Fíli continued, smirking.

Kíli shoved his brother with the heel of his free hand. “Am I supposed to be flattered now?”

“Yes,” Fíli said serenely, and Kíli laughed again, though less exuberantly. Now that he thought about it, he realized he _was,_ just a little bit.

This was really going to happen.

“So. Tonight then,” Kíli said, slightly breathier than he had intended. His mouth suddenly felt dry. “The Blue Diamond, after the evening bell?”

Fíli tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowed in thought. Then he shook his head. “No. Earlier.” The grin returned. “Buy me dinner first.”

Kíli shook his head with mock disbelief. “Trying to break even? What happened to me being worth the expense?”

“You are,” Fíli insisted. “But so am I, you see.”

It was a hard point to argue against, but Kíli wouldn’t so easily admit defeat. “I’ll buy you breakfast,” he proclaimed. “IF you’ve earned it!”

Fíli just laughed and nodded his assent, and with that, it was done. Kíli watched as Fíli strutted out of the room, as if nothing in particular had happened between them – as if this had just been an ordinary conversation. As if they hadn’t just made a date to… to fuck.

“Fuck,” Kíli whispered, running a hand through his hair, his gut churning with nerves and anticipation.

 

* * *

 

Fíli attempted a cool, nonchalant stroll across their room. The few feet to the door felt like a mile. He gently shut it behind him, then let his breath out in a whoosh as he leaned against the wall, head sinking back.

“IF you've earned it,” he muttered toward the ceiling. As if he didn't already have cause to be nervous.

A tavern. A room. His brother. Fucking. His head swam. He rubbed his hands down his legs and tried to think past the butterflies in his stomach and the tingling in his fingers and toes. All right. Fucking his brother in a rented room.

No.

His imagination swirled with possibilities he’d never allowed himself to entertain. He definitely didn’t mean no to sex. But Fíli almost wanted to curse his brother. He laughed without humor at the thought - curses were all too real now. It was just that it had only taken a few days, a few words, for Kíli to tear down barriers Fíli had managed to keep around his feelings, his desire, for so long. Fíli doubted it was intentional, but Kíli seemed determined to break the very last of Fíli’s restraint.

His rational mind still said - knew - that opening the door to his feelings meant letting them escape. That Kíli might never reciprocate, leaving Fíli with nothing but the memory of a touch he’d always long to feel again. But wasn’t something better than nothing? Fíli sighed. Then at least he would have touched him. Yes, he would always have that.

And he could hold tight to that last bit of his restraint. So Fíli was going through with this, but no, he wasn’t going to treat his brother like he was just a fuck. Nor would he be treated that way by Kíli. He needed Kíli to fall in love with him if this was going to work. Fíli didn’t have much time, but going through with this mad plan meant he needed to make it more than just fucking.

Court his brother. In two days. With no preparation. Starting with sex. He shook his head and straightened. Yes. He could do this.

Fíli set his jaw, squared his shoulders, and headed downstairs. He grabbed two travel bags that sat by the door and ignored the whisper of doubt that lingered in the back of his mind.

“I’ve made my decision,” he said.

“What was that, sweetheart?” his mother called from the kitchen.

“Good night, Amad,” Fíli yelled as he strode out the door.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, we've updated the chapter count a bit, so there's still a ways to go until we're done with these two... hope that's OK :P 
> 
> And we're sorry for the wait; this ended up being a fairly lengthy chapter that worked best cut in two, so more should be coming soon... ish!


	8. Chapter 8

 

Fíli pushed his way into the bustle and clamor of The Blue Diamond. Neither the tantalizing aromas of roasting meat and pipe smoke nor the cheerful chink of glasses distracted him from the shining dark hair in the corner. Kíli was sitting as close to the fire as he could in order to feel its warmth without inhaling the smoke coming off the food.

They kept their eyes on each other as Fíli made his way in as straight a line as he could through the tables and benches. Kíli had clipped his hair back, and his finely tailored dark blue shirt contrasted beautifully with his eyes. Fíli loved that look. He wondered whether Kíli knew.

Fíli reached out his hand. “Come with me.”

Kíli raised his eyebrows, but he didn’t hesitate. He stood and took Fíli’s hand.

The eyebrows arched higher as Fíli led them out of the door and toward the artisans’ hall. It was an effort for Fíli to keep his steps measured, unhurried.

“Where are we going?” Kíli asked.

Fíli looked down at their still-clasped hands, took a deep breath, then looked up into Kíli’s eyes. “You’re too special for a rented room.”

Kíli opened his mouth, closed it, swallowed. Fíli had managed to render his loquacious brother speechless. That was a good sign. Probably.

Or not. “I don’t know, Fee,” Kíli said with a leer. “It would’ve been a very nice room.”

Fíli nudged Kíli hard with his shoulder. “Your standards are too low, little brother.”

Kíli rubbed his shoulder in mock indignance and glared at Fíli. “You’re a snob.” A pause. “‘Big’ brother.”

Fíli snorted, pushed the forge’s door open, and stepped aside to let Kíli in. Kíli paused before crossing the threshold. Lights flickered beyond the anteroom. Fíli took a deep breath, then shut the door with a bang. He led Kíli into the main room and watched him take it all in.

Fíli had called in most of the favors he had owed to him in order to arrange everything in time. The deep pallet of blankets in the middle of the floor was lit by a roaring fire, with pillar candles on iron stands in the corners of the room and five twisting, colored lanterns dotting the ceiling. A basket of cold meats, hearty bread, and fresh butter sat safely away from the heat.

With the flickering light of the fire reflected in his wide eyes, Kíli turned to face Fíli. For a long moment, they just looked at each other. Fíli swallowed.

_I can still stop this,_ Fíli thought, blurred eyes turning toward the grey wall, _make sure I’m sure._ He could consider how to court Kíli properly, make sure it would be perfect, fully appreciated. His fingernails bit into his palms. Despite, or maybe because of, how long he’d been in love with Kíli, it wasn’t easy combining his brother and “first time” in the same thought. He felt nerves as he so rarely had in his life: a fluttering in his stomach, a hyper-awareness of being trapped in his skin. And then he was all too aware of the clicking of stone letting off heat, the subtle flow of air through the mountain, his too-rapid breath matching Kíli’s.

Kíli. Fíli wouldn’t stop this now. He relaxed his hands. “I’ve made my decision,” he whispered.

Fíli pulled his focus back onto Kíli’s eyes, their color as rich as the deep forest – and nearly as mysterious. His long lashes were unusually distracting as Kíli’s own nervousness was betrayed only by his rapid blinking, a slight worrying of his bottom lip. He otherwise stood as still as when he had a target in his sight.

“But you think it’s the wrong one,” Kíli responded, lifting a hand but letting it fall. “That’s the only time you doubt yourself.”

Kíli inhaled, then reached forward for Fíli’s hand, a comforting grasp of their fingers. “I don’t want to hurt you, Fee,” he said. “We don’t have to do this - we can try something else.”

Fíli nodded, shifted his feet. “I know. But I want to try this.”

Fíli stepped forward, eyes locked on Kíli’s. Another step. They shared the same space now. Fíli didn’t know what to do with his hands. He looked at Kíli’s lips. They parted, a sharp intake of air. Fíli licked his lips, flexed his hands - and then Kíli was out of patience.

Kíli took the final step and brought his hands to Fíli’s face, kissing him hard on the lips. Fíli felt his eyes widen, the press of warm lips on his, curling fingertips brushing his ears. His heartbeat spiked as his thoughts scattered. With a mental head shake, Fíli gathered the shreds of his wits, brought heavy arms to Kíli’s shoulders and gently pushed him back. Not out of his space - he wouldn’t have been capable of that now, anyway.

It was hard to breathe. He couldn’t believe this was real. They were so close that Kíli’s raised brow was blurry. Fíli brought a hand up to press against his brother’s stubbled cheek, traced his flushed cheekbone with a thumb, and then murmured, “Again.”

Fíli kept his eyes on Kíli’s lips as his brother closed the gap - slowly this time. Fíli swallowed as his mind tried to grasp the enormity of what was happening, but he firmly shut down all thought but one - Kíli was kissing him. With lowered eyes, hands hot on Fíli’s face, Kíli brushed Fíli’s lips with his own.

Fíli closed his eyes and sighed.  It felt better than he ever could’ve imagined. He had crossed a line that skirted a cliff edge. His hand on Kíli’s shoulder tightened at the thought as he glided his lips across Kíli’s. Their lips parted and connected, noses pressed next to each other, their breath mingling. Warmth spread from his head down through his body, and Fíli imagined his heart thudding in time with his brother’s as Kíli’s hands pulled him closer. Fíli slid his fingers through Kíli’s soft hair and curled them behind his neck. The smell and crackle of wood filtered through Fíli’s senses as the sliding and locking of their lips slowly deepened.

And then, with a light tug on Fíli’s bottom lip, Kíli pulled back. The lights played across his familiar features. “I thought this might be weird,” Kíli whispered with a faint smile, “but it’s not. It’s... good.”

And with that, Kíli had Fíli’s self control, as well as his heart.

Fíli surged forward, his hand tightening in Kíli’s hair as their mouths reconnected, his other arm sliding tight around Kíli’s back. All he was aware of was the pounding of his heart and the firm grip of Kíli’s hands on his shoulders as Fíli tilted his head to allow Kíli’s tongue to slide over his lips, letting him explore for a moment, before tangling their tongues together again. Back and forth, they traded breath and kisses and moans, Fíli’s hands trailing down his brother’s taut body until he grasped his hips and pushed him back against the wall.

Kíli grunted and pushed hard against Fíli’s mouth, wrapping his arms around Fíli’s back just as Fíli arched enough to work his fingers underneath Kíli’s tunic, touching the soft skin around his waist and back for the first time. Kíli gasped, and for some time the only thing Fíli heard were his brother’s low moans as they kissed and ground their bodies together.

It was pure instinct and need driving them now, no time for talk or for second-guessing. They clumsily fumbled with each other’s trousers, but then, finally – their foreheads pressed together, clothes open just enough for access – they were exposed to each other as they’d never been before. Intoxicated, Fíli wrapped an arm around Kíli’s middle, his other hand around their twin erections. Slowly he began to move his hand, gradually increasing the pressure.

“Oh. Fíli,” Kíli breathed before their lips met again. Their kiss soon turned too sloppy to maintain and they broke apart, both looking down to watch Fíli’s hand. Fíli felt himself getting close, the sight of their cocks pressed together almost as thrilling as the sensation. And then Kíli’s broken mewl as his body curled forward was too much: Kíli came on Fíli’s hand, and Fíli soon followed, his eyes closed and breathing rough.

The hiss and pop of the fire penetrated Fíli’s awareness. His hand was on… It was on Kíli. Fíli opened his eyes and tried to process the almost unbelievable sight. The press of Kíli's forehead against his reassured him, bringing him back to the here and now. It almost didn’t seem real: that they were here, that this had happened, that Kíli didn't regret it yet.

They stood there like that for a moment longer, leaning their heads into each other over the wet space between them until Fíli was able to gently pull apart, find a cloth, and wipe them off as Kíli leaned back against the wall, eyes closed.

Fíli took a deep breath, at a loss for what to do next. He wanted to stare at his brother, at his flushed skin, and savor the fact that _he_ had done that. But he also wanted more, more of Kíli, more of that heady moment when it had only been friction and warmth and pleasure and _Kíli._ The flicker of candlelight drew his attention across the room, and his eyes caught on the carefully prepared pallet. Courting. Yes. There was more to this than sex, as amazing as that had been. He had to win Kíli. He _would_ win Kíli.

“Come with me,” Fíli whispered, reaching for Kíli’s hand. Their fingertips touched as they stumbled the few steps to the furs. Kíli looked dazed, but he followed Fíli’s lead and stripped out of his sweat-dampened clothes. They lay on their sides, and Fíli brought his hand to Kíli’s cheek, ran his thumb gently over his brother’s cheekbone. Kíli, face still beautifully flushed, sighed. They closed their eyes, trading lazy, soft kisses. The second time was slower.

Fíli languidly trailed his hand over Kíli’s body, his upper leg and hip, his fingernails running through the hair on Kíli’s chest. Kíli caressed Fíli’s lower back in turn, his hands gliding over curves and then back up. It took no time for Fíli’s body to reawaken, for his breath to grow shallow with each new inch of skin he touched on his brother. Kíli felt it, too, his nipple hardening under Fíli’s attention. Or at least he felt something - Fíli didn’t know what Kíli was feeling just then, or if it compared to what Fíli felt for him, but he immediately shut that thought down. This would be enough.

With a pleased-sounding hum, Kíli moved his hand up to Fíli’s chest as Fíli slid his across Kíli’s back and down. The lean muscles shifted beautifully under Fíli’s hand as Kíli pressed his hand over Fíli’s pectoral. Fíli’s sucked in a breath as Kíli broke their kiss with a lick on his lips and then slipped down far enough to kiss down Fíli’s chest. Kíli caressed and sucked, and Fíli groaned helplessly with Kíli’s arousal pressing against his leg. “Your chest,” Kíli breathed. “You look amazing.”

“Kíli,” Fíli murmured, bringing his hand up to tangle in Kíli’s hair as he watched Kíli lick his nipple. “Oh, that’s good.”

They kissed and explored mouths and shoulders and chests until their erections demanded attention. This time Fíli was ready with oil, and they stroked each other into a slowly cresting pressure. Heat pooled in Fíli’s belly, and this climax was different - a sighing pleasure in beautiful contrast to the screaming intensity of the first.

 

Fíli couldn’t sleep. He didn’t want to sleep. He wanted to feel the warmth radiating from his brother, the tickle of hair against his neck, skin where their legs touched. In the waning light of the dying fire, Fíli propped himself up on an elbow and watched Kíli sleep on his side, an arm thrown over Fíli’s waist. Kíli’s breath was slow and even. His face looked peaceful, brow relaxed, line-free. Fíli reached toward Kíli’s cheek, but long years of habit made him stop and pull back. He swallowed, then reached forward. Cold fingers barely grazing his brother‘s temple, he pushed dark hair behind Kíli’s ear, then reached down and pulled Kíli’s blanket up to his shoulders.

Pressure in Fíli’s chest said this could be it. His throat felt tight. He licked his lips, pursed them. They had kissed. They had done more than kiss. It was all tangled in his mind - disbelief, desire, doubt, love. Hope. The hope had escaped, too. He allowed himself one more touch, a thumb over Kíli’s eyebrow, down his cheekbone. Kíli sighed, shifted closer. Fíli’s heart hammered.

 

Kíli didn’t even try to be quiet as he demolished breakfast the next morning. He had gotten dressed and rekindled the fire. Fíli groaned and pulled a pillow onto his face.

“Did I wear you out last night?” Kíli asked between bites, eyes warm.

Fíli would have to keep imagining what it would be like to wake up with Kíli in his arms. On the positive side, though, Kíli had removed any threat of morning-after discomfort. No uncertainty or insecurity to manage.

“Too early,” Fíli grumbled. Then, with one eye peeking beyond the fabric, he added, “Save some for me.”

Kíli shook his head, mouth full. He gestured toward the basket. _Get up_. Fíli rolled his eyes, stretched, and then struggled to a sitting position. Kíli’s eyes traced down Fíli’s body as the blanket slid off his bare chest and then snapped back up.

Fíli winked, Kíli went slack-jawed. Fíli kept his satisfied smirk to himself. With a shake of his head, Kíli rallied. “I always warn you you’ll miss things sleeping in all the time,” he said, holding up a pathetic crust of bread for emphasis.

“You didn’t even have to buy breakfast,” Fíli said as he shrugged into his shirt, a giddy happiness bordering on pain swelling his heart. “Least you could do is leave some for me.”

Kíli shrugged with a grin. “Your choice, Fee.” More chewing, and then a mumbled, “Thank you, by the way. It’s good.”

 

Fíli floated through the morning, the doubt that lurked in the back of his mind quiescent as his heart sang, “it’s actually happening, it’s happening, it’s happening”. It was by far and away the best he’d felt since he’d woken Kíli from the curse. He told himself it was just a normal reaction to sex, but of course it was more than that. It was the high - and the shock - of grasping the unattainable, of connecting with Kíli on yet another level.

It was also the gratification of being proven right, because this was the most natural that he and Kíli had been with each other since the fiasco had started. There was none of the awkwardness that he might have expected after such an encounter as they cheerfully re-cleaned the forge the next day, Kíli teasing Fíli for the mess, nor as they casually caught up on packing that evening, Fíli ribbing Kíli for his poor organizational skills.

They were good together. They could be even better together. Who cared if what they had was “True Love” or not?

Fíli let himself hope that Kíli would realize it, too.

 

With a bittersweet dinner - happy with an undercurrent of ‘this is our second to last’ - finished and cleaned up, Fíli and Kíli entered their room, glancing at the last pile of clothes on Kíli’s bed and then at each other. Fíli’s body screamed _more_ , his mind, relishing the high, singing agreement, his heart–

His heart cracked.

“We should finish,” Fíli suggested, on behalf of his future emotions, with a half-hearted wave toward the clothes. He’d kept a lock on his desire for so long, it shouldn’t be impossible to tamp it back down. Maybe. If they didn’t go too far. If his growing love wasn’t built on quicksand.

Kíli nodded, eyes on Fíli’s face. “That’s exactly what we should do,” he said in mock solemnity, turning toward Fíli.

Fíli nodded, slowly turning to face his brother. “Who needs a tavern when one has such a riveting task awaiting his attention?”

Kíli snorted, then turned serious. “Are you all right?” he asked with shining eyes.

He wasn’t all right. “I’m fine.”

“Fíli.”

“Kíli.” Fíli took a step forward.

Kíli swallowed. “I just want to make sure this isn’t-”

“I’m fine,” Fíli cut him off. He lifted his chin, firmly quelling every shaking nerve, and held Kíli’s gaze. “I’d be even better if you were kissing me.”

A sharp inhale, and Kíli’s hand was on Fíli’s cheek, lips on his. Fíli closed his eyes, and it was happening again, a flood of warmth, of excitement, of desire. Love. Fíli would pretend this was love.

The kiss began deep, and Fíli kicked the door closed with his heel while Kíli backed him against the wall. The reversal of last night’s position was exhilarating, Kíli pressing him against the wall as his hands sought to expose flesh. Kíli’s tongue slid over his, smooth and graceful, while his hands caressed Fíli’s shoulders, moving down. Fíli fumbled with the ties of Kíli’s shirt, then gave up and pushed the whole thing off. They broke apart long enough for it to go over Kíli’s head, their breathing shallow, and then their mouths reconnected as Kíli pushed Fíli’s shirt back and down.

Fíli pulled back a breath, arms loosely around Kíli’s back, as he traced his tongue over Kíli’s bottom lip, kissed the corner of his mouth, glided his lips down the stubble on Kíli’s jaw, kissed his neck just under his ear. He felt Kíli’s racing pulse, and then he slid his hands up to Kíli’s shoulders and pushed him away just enough to take in the curve of his chest covered in dark hair, his flushed face and black eyes, before looking back down. He dragged his hands down the hard planes of muscle.

Then Fíli’s eyes rolled back, as with the vibration of a suppressed moan, Kíli bent forward to kiss his neck. Kíli trailed his lips down, Fíli’s hands helpless around Kíli’s shoulders as he kept going.

Fíli made the mistake of looking down at his brother’s mouth on his hip. Suppressing his own moan took a supreme act of will that was about to get even more difficult.

Kíli looked up through his lashes. “Can you be quiet?”

“Kíli.” _No_.

“Can you?”

“Fuck.” Fíli took a shuddering breath. “Yes.”

Fíli wanted Kíli so badly he couldn’t think, could barely breathe, and he shook with the effort it took to keep quiet and simply watch. This. Kíli’s mouth and tongue between Fíli’s legs and up and down his erection, a hand gripping the base and one on his ass. Then he was in Kíli’s mouth, and all he could feel was the center of his body and his clenched fists pushing at the wall. Candlelight flickered on Kíli’s dark head as it moved up and down, the silk and heat of Kíli’s mouth gathering the rising tide of sensation and need.

Fíli’s head dropped back and he was barely aware of his hands opening, one scrabbling at the wall, unable to find any purchase on the cold stone. The other tangled in Kíli’s hair, and the control Fíli held over his gasping, the noises he needed to make but couldn’t, clenched his fingers too tightly. Kíli made a tantalizing humming noise and sped up. Climax overtook Fíli in a rush, and he came in Kíli’s mouth with a hard exhale.

He resisted the urge to sink to the floor and gather Kíli into his arms. Instead, he guided them up and onto Fíli’s bed, Kíli looking entirely too pleased with himself, a smile hovering around the edges of his lips - until the moment Fíli’s hand glided over Kíli’s clothed erection. Kíli watched wide eyed as Fíli opened his trousers, and his breath hitched at the first touch. Fíli stroked Kíli until his face contorted with the effort to stay quiet, then leaned up to smother his face in Fíli’s chest as he came with a muffled groan. It was painfully endearing.

 

“Why do you love me?” Kíli was serious, almost childlike. They lay on their backs, boneless, staring at the ceiling.  
  
“I don’t know,” Fíli said, rolling onto his side and brushing a strand of hair behind Kíli’s ear with a quirk of his lips. “It is a mystery.”

“Wow, I feel so special,” Kíli said with an exaggerated eye roll.

“All right,” Fíli gave in quickly, “everything. Everything I love about you, I’ve always loved about you. Your enthusiasm, your spontaneity, your laugh. We have so much fun. We understand each other. And then it was more than that: your hands on a bow, your stealth when hunting.”

He sighed, followed his finger as he traced down Kíli’s arm. He made himself look at Kíli’s face. “I realized you were the standard by which I measured everyone else. The standard no one could meet.

“You’re beautiful, Kee. I-” Fíli cut himself off, closing his eyes. He was talking too much. He needed to get this out. Kíli grasped his hand. Fíli eyes opened, gazed at their contrasting fingers, narrow and wide, tan and pale. “I _like_ you.”

Kíli’s eyes were glistening. His mouth spread into a wide smile that Fíli couldn’t help but match. And then Kíli laughed. And Fíli laughed. And it ached and it felt so good. “I like you, too,” Kíli said with a grin, voice warm. 

Fíli was in so much trouble. They had so little time. A deep breath past the churn in his gut. “Could you love me?” he asked.

“I do-” Kíli began, then took his own measured breath. “I love being with you. Especially right now.” He took Fíli’s hand. “Can we just see where this goes?”

Fíli looked down, nodded. What else could he do?

 

* * *

 

Another day, the last day before their planned departure. They finished packing while Thorin came to spend time with their mother. They all enjoyed each other’s company. They all glanced at Fíli more than normal or necessary. Fíli bristled at the attention. He thought he was maintaining an appearance of calm. He had so much more than he had ever hoped for, after all.

His fears weren’t their business, but now he had so much more to lose. He wouldn’t be able to breathe if it crashed down on him. Fíli didn’t care about Erebor’s riches anymore or about One True Love. He just wanted Kíli.

“Come with me,” Fíli said that evening as he took his brother by his hand. If Kíli ultimately declined Fíli’s love, at least Fíli would know he had tried. It was an unseasonably warm night, the moon bright. With the butterflies back in his stomach, he led Kíli and his shining eyes to the hollow of a nearby mountain cave, prepared with the best pipe weed and ale and furs, fire pit ready to ignite.

Kíli settled back against the dark stone as Fíli lit the fire. As he slid down next to Kíli, Fíli handed him a finely carved pipe. Kíli turned it over in his hands and then glanced around the small cavern.

“You’re courting me,” Kíli said with a grin and a jab at Fíli’s ribs.

Fíli, to his frustration and chagrin, blushed. “I-” he looked down, rubbing his neck, then met Kíli’s eyes. “Not very well,” he grumbled.

“Oh Mahal, you are!” The smile that lit Kíli’s face was as bright as the dancing firelight. It didn’t hide the perplexed look in his eyes. “But I’m your brother,” he said with a tilt of his head.

Fíli’s body was tense with both nervousness and anticipation. He wanted to kiss Kíli so badly. But this… what did Kíli mean by that? He made himself ask: “How does that matter?”

Kíli pressed his shoulder to Fíli’s, raised his hands with a shrug. “We’re already family,” he said slowly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Fíli’s shoulder relaxed, a little bit, into Kíli’s. That didn’t sound as horrible as he had feared.

“Still, I wanted to,” Fíli said, watching Kíli’s face. Kíli looked at him like he so often did lately. Soft eyes offering hope - but no promise. Fíli took a long breath. “Court you. I want you to know how much I love you. But I didn’t have time to make you anything.”

Another deep breath, and Fíli twisted his torso toward Kíli and ran his hand up Kíli’s arm to his neck. “And I’ve been a little distracted.” _So. Distracted._

Kíli’s bit his lip, eyes on Fíli’s. “I’ve noticed,” Kíli murmured. He moved his head closer. “You can’t keep your eyes off me.”

Fíli’s breath hitched. He leaned in. “I _want_ you, Kíli,” he breathed.

Their lips just touched. “Have me,” Kíli whispered, and Fíli forgot how to breathe.

They kissed, arms wrapped around each other, for so long that Fíli wouldn’t have been surprised to see the sun rising. At some point Kíli shifted to sit in front of him, long legs over Fíli’s. Fíli sat back and made Kíli move toward him to keep kissing, and Kíli did. Fíli agreed with his lips when Kíli said he could do this all night.

“I love your strength,” Kíli said when Fíli picked him up, kissing him hard as he laid him gently onto the blankets. “Your hands are perfect.”

Fíli had to remind himself to breathe. More than once. Between kisses, Kíli said he wanted to be the only one to make Fíli blush, the only one to melt the ice of Fíli’s eyes.

Fíli’s whole body melted.

Fíli feared they were running out of time, yet it felt right to explore every inch of skin that his brother offered. And his tongue had just found Kíli’s inner thigh, and he inhaled musk and sex and power as the muscle shifted under his mouth and Kíli writhed at the attention.

So Fíli took his time. He kissed up Kíli’s thigh to lick the crease at the top of Kíli’s leg and down to tease his perineum to a symphony of moans. Licked up until he tasted the salty bead on the head of Kíli’s erection. Breathed on it until Kíli’s hand fisted in his hair and his heel kicked the ground. Tongued the slit, suckled the head, took his brother into his mouth. Slow, and then as fast as the beating of his heart and Kíli’s panting, until Kíli screamed Fíli’s name and came into his mouth. Fíli swallowed, kissed Kíli’s stomach.

Kíli reached under Fíli’s arm and with a weak pull guided Fíli up for another hard kiss as Kíli snaked a hand down and wrapped it around Fíli’s cock. They faced each other, and with a broken shout, Fíli came fast and hard on Kíli’s stomach. They flopped onto their backs.

“I didn’t know it could feel this good,” Kíli said, languid, as Fíli wiped them off.

_Sex? Love?_ Even as Kíli settled into the crook of Fíli’s elbow, and Fíli’s hand slid over Kíli’s waist, _I can’t do this anymore_ fought with how easily they fit together.  It would split him in half if Kíli broke his heart. It was too full now. Each time they touched illuminated another thing he loved about his brother. His fingertips. His soft expressions of desire. The way his smile felt against Fíli’s mouth. His skin. The physical evidence of his passion. How he made Fíli feel like the only being in the world when he looked at him.

Kíli lifted his head to look at him with eyes so full of warmth it took Fíli’s breath away. Fíli couldn’t do this anymore, and yet he couldn’t stop it. How could he, with Kíli looking at him like that? 

“Fíli.”

“Yes?” Fíli reached for calm. He had unlocked his heart and left it in Kíli’s hands. He couldn’t take that back now.

“This is hurting you,” Kíli whispered, eyes and mouth turning down, “isn’t it?” A hand reached out, then pulled back. “We should… we should end this. Shouldn’t we?”

And Fíli’s heart stopped.

 


End file.
